Oddities of Destiny
by MegPotter123
Summary: Destiny was an oddity; she wasn't normal. She didn't see things in a normal way, and she certainly didn't see Harry Potter in a normal way. As far as she was concerned, he was as much a hero as she was a troll.  Harry/OC
1. The New Arrival

**My first time posting on here, although I've already posted this story on Quizilla and HPFF. I'd love it if you could let me know what you think :)**

**Disclaimer: **Funnily enough, I don't own Harry Potter. If I did, I would be chilling in some hot country right now, not sat in my room in England.

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><p><strong>Chapter One: The New Arrival<strong>

A tear trickled down my cheek as I stared out over the balcony, my eyes glazed over, obscuring my vision. I knew I probably should have been holding on to the beautiful scenery outside for as long as I could: the endlessly clear blue sky; the dryness of the ground and dirt; how everything seemed that dusty, golden colour in the sunlight. But every time I tried, it just brought back happy memories, memories I'd never get back.

I'd always loved it on the flat roof, with its amazing views and perfect serenity. No one else ever went up there - it was too hot, with the blazing sun beating down with nothing to get in its way. I suppose you could've called it my hideout, the place where I would go when I just wanted to be alone, swimming in thoughts or to trying and make sense of something. Usually, that worked. Not today.

I didn't know how long I'd been stood there when my older sister, Calista, poked her head round the door that lead out here from the stairs.

"Des, you need to come downstairs. We're leaving…" She said softly. Her eyes were red and puffy: she'd been crying too.

I nodded and turned away from the stunning views, following her down the steps and through the cool marble halls of my Greek home.

We stopped at the kitchen, where my mother was sat at the glass circular table, clutching a tissue to her chest, salty water pouring from her eyes. I sighed. I hated seeing her upset, but knew she had good reason to be. I couldn't quite believe I was managing to hold myself together so well, but I knew that if I broke down, like I wanted to, there was no way mum would ever come out of this depression she'd just entered.

A woman with purple hair was sat next to her, her arms wrapped tightly around her shoulders, whispering comforting things. A man with deep scars across his face, grisly grey hair and a strange, vivid blue eye that looked fake compared to his other was talking to the purple haired woman in a deep voice.

I frowned. I didn't know either of these people, and the man looked rather frightening. His blue eye flickered across to me on its own, and I jumped in surprise. He smiled grimly and moved forwards.

"Destiny, I am Alastor Moody, and this is Tonks. We've come to… _explain_ some things to you."

"What things?" I asked cautiously. He inhaled deeply and gestured to one of the seats. Hesitantly, I took it, placing my hands on my lap and waiting expectantly for the man to continue. He glanced at the woman he'd called Tonks briefly before turning back to me.

"I suppose it would be better to just put this bluntly: you and your sister are witches. Calista already knows this, since we've told her and your mother everything we can divulge at this moment." I gaped at him. Under any normal circumstances, I would have laughed, but I didn't think I had enough hope and happiness left in me to force even a smile from myself, let alone a giggle.

"This is a stupid joke," I managed to choke out, glaring around the room at my mother, sister and Tonks. Was this their idea of a joke, or were they just trying to lighten the mood a bit? Either way, the thought made me feel sick to my stomach.

"Des, he's telling the truth. I've seen what he did… And what Tonks can do…" Calista whispered from behind me. I wheeled round to face her.

"Okay, then why don't they show me?" I challenged. She didn't answer, so I turned away from her.

Moody was shooting sparks from a stick and Tonks was changing her hair colour and style in an unbroken chain without touching it once. They both looked at me expectantly, and my eyes widened.

"W-w-what _are_ you?" I gasped, falling back from them a few paces. Moody chuckled dryly.

"I am a wizard, and Tonks is a witch. Although, that's not why she changes her appearance like that: she's also a Metamorphmagus. But both of you are capable of magic." I just stared at him, and then looked to my mother. She was watching me; she believed them. I bit my lip, caught between wanting to believe them and what my reality was and always had been.

"What's a Metamorphmagus?" I sighed, giving in to curiosity. Tonks beamed.

"We can change our appearance at will, but we're really rare. Anyway, before we can say anymore, we're gonna take you all back to headquarters where we can-"

"Not now, Tonks!" Moody growled. She rolled her eyes, a small smile tugging on the corners of her bubblegum-pink lips.

"Headquarters?" I asked.

"We'll explain when we get there. For now, go pack a bag and be ready to meet us here in ten minutes." My head was filled with questions, but Calista pulled on my hand and we ran upstairs together.

I raided my wardrobe for clothes and all the other necessities I'd need wherever we were going. Finished, I rushed back to the kitchen, where Calista was already waiting. She smiled weakly at me and I returned it.

Moody was still in the room, but Tonks had apparently gone upstairs to help our mother pack her bag.

"Do you think we'll be okay?" I murmured in my sister's ear.

"We'll be fine," Callie answered, but from her expression, I wasn't sure if she was trying to convince me or herself. Mum entered soon after, followed by Tonks. She wasn't crying anymore, just sniffling every so often - I was amazed she'd managed to calm down that much.

"We're ready, Mad-eye." I was tempted to snicker at his nickname, but I wasn't sure how Moody would react. Surprisingly, he didn't take any notice of it and gathered us all together.

"We're going to apparate, so you need to hold onto either Tonks or I. You'll find out when we get there," he added, seeing me open my mouth. I gripped Tonks' arm whilst Callie held her other and mum held onto Moody. A strange feeling then swept over me, like I was being pulled through a tight tube, but it lasted only a couple of seconds; I was now stood on a dirty pavement outside a block of houses. The sky was dark, and a few people were milling around the streets. Moody shoved a piece of paper into my hand and growled in my ear, "Read it and remember it." I looked down at the loopy handwriting on the thick, yellowed piece of paper.

_The headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix may be found at number twelve, Grimmauld Place, London._

I read through it several times, committing it to memory, and then passed it to Callie.

"Right, now repeat it in your head," Moody said once we'd passed the note back to him. The block of houses began to grow apart, and a new house appeared between numbers 11 and 13. I stood still, trembling. Seeing magic before me like this was wonderful and horrible at the same time. How many other things were hidden to me? What else couldn't I see?

Moody gave me a shove and I stepped towards the house. Slowly, I pushed open the grotty door and entered, my foot lingering over the threshold.

The hallway was narrow, and Moody moved in front of me to show us where to go. He ignored the first door at the end of the hall, from where I could here hushed voices speaking purposefully. It sounded like arguing, or a debate of some sort, but I couldn't be sure.

He lead us into the kitchen, a place as dirty as the rest of the house. The wallpaper was peeling and the wooden floor looked like it hadn't been cleaned in years. A red haired woman was stood with her back to us, cooking. When she heard the door shut behind us, she turned, still holding a wooden spoon in her hand.

"Oh, hello, Tonks, Moody. You must be the Dranias family! I'm Molly Weasley. I am terribly sorry for your loss, all of you," she said, hurrying to mum. She embraced her in a hug and mum broke into a fresh fit of tears. Callie and I stood uncomfortably, shuffling our feet slightly.

"P-p-please, call m-me F-faith," she sobbed. Mrs Weasley looked at her gently and gave her another hug before turning to us.

"Calista and Destiny? I am afraid we can't let you into the meeting, since you're too young, but if you go upstairs and turn into the room with the shouting, the kids will explain everything to you. Or, as much as they can…" She trailed off, glancing back at mum. I frowned and was about to protest, but Callie pulled on my arm.

"Now's not the time. C'mon, mum won't want us around when she's like this…" She whispered so only I could hear. I sighed and nodded; Callie always seemed to be the one who knew everything.

We followed the hall again until we came to the stairs, and then began climbing up them together in silence, which was broken by me. "What did she mean by 'the one with the shouting'?" I asked as we walked along the landing. Callie shrugged.

"I'm guessing the one where you can hear shouting? Because I think we've found it," she said just as we walked by a door where someone was yelling loudly.

"-SAVED THE PHILOSOPHER'S STONE? WHO GOT RID OF RIDDLE? WHO SAVED BOTH YOUR SKINS FROM THE DEMENTORS?"

"Great. Just what I wanted. A hormonal teenage boy screaming his head off," I muttered bitterly as Callie pushed the door open to reveal the black-haired boy who was causing all the noise. In front of him stood a bushy brown haired girl and a tall, red haired boy, both looking rather nervous.

"WHO HAD TO GET PAST DRAGONS AND SPHINXES AND EVERY OTHER FOUL THING LAST YEAR? WHO SAW HIM COME BACK? WHO HAD TO ESCAPE FROM HIM? ME!" He continued, barely stopping for breath.

"I'm sorry, are we interrupting something?" I said sarcastically. Callie whipped around to glare at me, and so did the boy. He was wearing round glasses over his dazzlingly emerald green eyes, and he wasn't at all bad looking. But I was immediately put off by his attitude.

"Who are you?" He snapped.

"The Grand Duke of York. And you are?" I retorted. I'd quickly come to the decision that I did not like this boy, who looked as if he would explode with rage anytime soon.

"Don't pretend like you don't know," he spat. I raised my eyebrows and properly entered the room.

"Are you so up your own ass that you think everyone's gonna know who you are? Well, I think it's about time you woke up and smelt the daises, sunshine, 'cause neither of us have a _clue_." He scowled at me and turned back to the other two teenagers.

But they weren't paying him any attention now. They were staring at me, their mouths hanging open in slight awe.

The girl regained herself, and rushed over to me, flinging her arms around my shoulders. "Oh, you must be Calista! I am _so_ sorry! Ignore Harry, he only just got here, he doesn't know what happened!" She let go of me and held me at arms length as I gasped for breath.

"I'm Calista. She's Destiny," Callie mumbled from behind me.

"Oh, of course, sorry! I'm Hermione Granger, by the way, and this is Ronald Weasley," she spoke quickly and pointed to the red-head. I smiled feebly at him and he grinned back.

"And you're Harry?" I asked, looking at the last boy. He nodded once and sat on the bed, glaring at all of us. "And what exactly is your problem?" I was in no mood for people like him. Right now, I just wanted to yell at someone and take all my anger and confusion and sadness out, and he seemed like the best target.

"What's my problem? Are you _joking_? Only the fact that these two haven't spoken a _word_ to me over the summer, I don't know anything about what's been going on since Voldemort has been back, and Dumbledore apparently doesn't _want _me to know anything after I saw him come back, and then watched Cedric Diggory get killed!" His voice had risen again, and he'd stood up.

"Okay, I get it, you've got a tough life. I have no idea what half of what you just said means, but right now, I don't really care. According to Mrs Weasley, one of you can tell me what's going on. That's all I want to know, and I'm sure Calista agrees."

"You don't know anything?" Hermione said softly just as Harry was about to reply.

"No, only that Callie and I are witches and that dad is dead. I don't know who killed him, I don't know why, I don't know what this place is, I don't know what's meant to happen to us now and I don't know who he is, which is apparently a big thing," I growled, jerking my head at Harry.

Harry's eyes widened and his eyes darted between Hermione and I.

"Oh. Well, I suppose… I'll have to tell you… Your father was killed by Death Eaters. They're a group of wizards and witches who follow You-Know-Who, but I'll tell you about him after. The Order think they killed him because he's… well, because he's your father, and they thought that he might lead them to you if they tortured him enough. But he didn't, so they killed him anyway. We're not sure why You-Know-Who wanted you. In fact, we're not even sure it _was_ you they wanted. They know it was one of the two of you, though. One of you must have something You-Know-Who wants, which is why you've been brought here, for protection-"

"Why would anyone want us? We've only just found out about all of this!" I muttered angrily. Hermione looked at me apologetically.

"I know. It is rather confusing… Oh, this is the Order of the Phoenix, a secret society Dumbledore formed when You-Know-Who was first powerful. You-Know-Who is a dark wizard who killed many people to get his power. The Order was here for those who wanted to fight against him."

"Why do you call him You-Know-Who?" I asked curiously.

"Because… Well, because most fear to speak his real name."

"Which is…?"

Hermione bit her lip and glanced at Harry, who sighed.

"Voldemort," he grumbled, sounding bored.

"Voldemort? Were his parents deranged?" Harry rolled his eyes.

"He changed his name. It was originally Tom Riddle," Hermione butted in, looking anxiously at Harry, who looked like he was about to go off on another rampage.

"So how come he can say the name but you can't?" I asked, jerking my head at Harry again.

"Harry's… not… silly, I suppose," Hermione replied, but it was obvious she wasn't telling me everything.

"And why should I know who _he_ is?" Hermione began to chew her lip again.

"Look, it doesn't matter. You've found out all you wanted to know, now it's my turn. Ron, Hermione, talk," Harry said, pushing me slightly out of the way.

"Hey! I'm not done yet!"

"I don't care! This is important!"

"And so is this!"

"Shut up!"

"You shut up!"

"Go aw-"

"Both of you, just shut it!" Callie snapped, her hands on her hips, glaring at us both. I smirked at her.

"Oh, sorry, Callie, did you want to join in?" I asked, stepping aside so she could step in front of him. She stood her ground though.

"It's not _funny_, Des! We've only just moved and you're already in an argument!"

"This isn't an argument. If it was, it wouldn't be this easy," I said, shoving Harry. He fell back onto the bed and then jumped up again so quickly it looked like he'd been electrocuted. I grinned, a small giggle escaping my lips as he scowled at me.

"Well, this looks like the start of a beautiful friendship," Ron muttered sarcastically.

"Ron, I appreciate your sarcasm. You're right, this _is_ going to be the start of a beautiful friendship," I said, nodding a salute to him, to which he grinned back.

"If you're finished? Hermione, tell me what's been going on!" Harry said, eyeing me. Hermione gave him a full explanation about the Order, glancing nervously at Harry every so often for his reaction.

"So, what about Voldemort?"

"What about him?"

"What's happening? What's he up to? Where is he? What are we doing to stop him?"

"I _told_ you, we're not allowed in the meetings!" Hermione snapped at him, and he glared at her, but otherwise fell silent.

I was quickly beginning to like him much more when he didn't talk.

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><p><strong>So, I hope you enjoyed it, and please review :)<strong>

_**Meg x**_


	2. First Impression

**I'd really appreciate it if you could review for me! Thanks :)**

**Disclaimer: **Harry Potter belongs to the wonderful and talented JK Rowling, not to me.

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><p><strong>Chapter Two: First Impression<strong>

It was about an hour or so before we all went downstairs again for dinner. As we took our seats around the table, Mrs Weasley kept shooting worried looks at me and Callie, as if she were expecting us to have a mental break-down at any moment. Mum wasn't eating with us; as soon as we entered the kitchen, she had left, not looking back.

I also noticed that all of the adults - this included three new men I hadn't seen before - gave Harry nervous glances. It was beginning to irritate me: Why was everyone so worried? I didn't know a thing about Harry, and if I was honest, I didn't really care about him, but nothing could be as bad as they seemed to think it was.

Two of the new men were sat at the top end of the dinner table. They were both quite young, but one looked as though he might have been ill, and the other's face was sunken and gaunt, as if he hadn't lived properly in years.

The last man, who was stood up next to Moody, looked a lot healthier. He was tall, with dark skin and was wearing deep blue robes.

I tried not to stare too much as the men sat down, but it was very difficult, especially when Harry beamed at the gaunt man and immediately took a seat beside him. Feeling like I was missing out on something, I turned my gaze away from them.

Hermione took a seat next to me with Callie on my other side. Ron sat himself next to Hermione and his mother, who had sat down at the other end of the table. Across from us, three seats remained empty.

"Who-?" I began to ask, but before I'd finished my question, two red-headed boys, completely identical in appearances, popped out of thin air into two of the seats. It was quite apparent that they were twins, and more than likely more members of the Weasley family.

They grinned broadly at their mother, who had drawn in a deep breath, probably to yell at them, when I broke in.

"Oh, _cool_! How did you do that?" I asked enthusiastically. Mrs Weasley and the twins looked at me; the boys both smiled mischievously and launched into conversation.

"Apparation, my dear lady," they said in unison.

"Fred Weasley at your service-" the one on the right said, taking a mock bow.

"- And George Weasley. I believe we haven't met?" I gave a small giggle as George pretended to tip a top hat at me.

"Destiny Dranias, pleased to meet you," I grinned, attempting a curtsy whilst sitting down, which, inevitably, did not work out, and I knocked my cutlery onto the floor. The twins laughed as I bent under the table to retrieve the silverware, glaring at them as I handed the knife and fork back to their mother, who soon returned with a clean set.

As she started to pour gravy over my roast potatoes, a girl no less than a year younger than me entered. Her hair was a blazing red, a trait I had begun to notice all the Weasleys shared. She sat next to Fred, in the last seat left.

"Now that we've all sat down," Mrs Weasley eyed her twin sons and daughter. "We can begin to discuss… Well, what needs to be discussed," she said, looking pointedly at the two men at the top of the table. I followed her gaze as I put a bit of scalding potato in my mouth and began to eat.

The ill looking man sighed and put his fork down. "Right, Molly. I suppose we'll start with Calista and Destiny, then," he mumbled. I frowned at him, confusion spreading across my features. What more was there to be told?

"You know why you can't stay in Greece anymore, I presume?" He asked. I stared at him, but I could see Calista out of the corner of my eye nodding her head slowly.

"Well, you know most of the story, then. You know you are both witches; however, your mother is not. She is going to stay here for the school term whilst you both go to Hogwarts, and then you will see her again at Christmas and in the summer."

"What's Hogwarts?" Callie asked softly from beside me.

"Hogwarts is a school for witches and wizards. Destiny, you will be in your fifth year with Harry, Ron and Hermione. Calista, you will be in your sixth - unfortunately, none of the others here will be in the same year, so you have the slight disadvantage of not having people you already know in your classes. School starts on the first of September; in a week Molly will take you into Diagon Alley to get all of your school things." Once he had finished, he began to eat again. I glanced at Callie, who was staring at her plate. I knew full well that she would make friends very quickly - she was far too likeable not to. But it wasn't difficult to guess that she was nervous of being alone.

The small information we had just been given by the man left me bursting with questions, but I decided it best to wait until I was with Hermione to ask them.

"And now, Harry. I believe Hermione and Ron have told you everything they know about the situation as it currently stands. However, there are a few things you may need to know…" The gaunt man began. Harry raised his eyebrows and nodded for him to continue. "The minister for magic is still refusing to believe Voldemort is back," he said whilst handing Harry a newspaper over the table. Harry scowled at the paper and looked up.

"'_The Boy Who Lies_?' He's telling people I'm lying?" Harry asked, an edge of anger to his voice.

"There have been articles about Dumbledore, too - if I'm honest, you two take up the front page most days. He's been using his power as Minister to influence the Daily Prophet, preventing anyone from learning the real truth about the Dark Lord."

"But why?"

"Fudge is frightened, to put it simply, and fear can do awful things to a person. He doesn't want a repeat of what happened last time You-Know-Who was in power: panic. And the best way for him to prevent that is by making himself and the rest of the wizarding world believe he isn't back."

"But… Voldemort _must_ be doing something. Murders, kidnaps, anything - anything that _proves_ he's back…" Harry muttered, laying the paper down on the wooden surface of the table.

"Voldemort _is_ doing something, but nothing that the Ministry will notice if they're not out there looking for it. Voldemort has been gathering followers. Last time, 15 years ago, he had an army of dark creatures, not just Death Eaters, and we're certain he'll want that again. And… There's something _else_ we believe he's been doing as well…"

Moody cleared his throat loudly. The man sat back in his seat slowly, glancing at Moody before continuing. "We have the feeling… That Voldemort is searching for something. Something he didn't have before."

"Sirius, watch it," Moody warned him, his eyes flashing darkly and preventing us from hearing whatever it was the man named Sirius was about to say next.

"What do you mean? A… weapon?" Harry asked hesitantly, glancing briefly at Moody before turning back to Sirius. Sirius opened his mouth to respond, but this time, Mrs Weasley cut in. Whatever it was he wanted to say, the other adults obviously did not want Harry to hear it.

"Stop, stop, _stop_! That's _enough_, Sirius, he's not ready for this! The boy's not even seventeen yet…"

"I've done plenty more than any other teenager I know of. I _am_ ready to fight," Harry insisted, sitting forward in his seat. I snorted and looked away.

"What?" He snapped at me.

"Are you suicidal, by any chance? Or just stupid?" I asked, glaring at him. I didn't have to be a genius to figure out that this Voldemort, however much I despised him for murdering my father, wasn't someone to be messed with by a fifteen-year-old boy.

"Des!" Calista growled, digging her elbow into my ribcage as Harry's mouth opened to throw a retort back at me.

"Thanks for dinner, Mrs Weasley. I think I'm going to bed. It's been a long day." I muttered, getting up and rubbing my side, sure there would be a bruise there tomorrow morning.

"Oh, well, okay… If you need anything, just say…" She replied, watching me carefully, sadness filling her eyes. As aware as I was that she was only trying to be caring, I knew full well that I would not be asking her for any favours.

"I think I'm done too, Mrs Weasley, thank you," I heard Harry say from the kitchen when I left. Spectacular. Alone time with _him_.

I heard the door shut behind him as I began walking upstairs, and then the creak of the old wooden floorboards beneath his feet as he caught up with me.

"Destiny?" He asked, his hand brushing my arm as he made a move to grab it. I swung it out of his way, choosing to ignore him. "Can we just talk for a moment?" _No, we bloody well can not talk_, I thought, rolling my eyes at his persistence.

He sighed, finally giving up, and followed behind me in silence.

I entered the room I'd been in before, when I'd first arrived, and Harry followed in after me, frowning. "This isn't your room. This is mine and Ron's." I glared at him, stepping round him to the stand in the doorframe.

"Then would you be so kind as to tell me where my room is?" I asked through gritted teeth.

"Not until you've talked to me." I scowled, moving back in to the room slowly and sitting on one of the beds.

"Fine. Shoot." He grinned briefly, but the smile quickly faded from his lips.

"We haven't had the best first impression of each other. I was just thinking… Why don't we start over?" He said, holding out his hand, which I simply stared at. Eventually, getting the message, he dropped it to hang by his side again.

"I'll take that as a no…" He mumbled as he sat on the other bed opposite me. Sighing, I leaned back on my hands, my eyes fixed on his.

"I don't know anything about you. I don't even know your last name-"

"-It's Potter-"

"-And your right. We didn't get the best first impressions. But you can't really have a second first impression, which is why I won't start over with you. Now would you show me to my room?" He rolled his eyes and stood up again, and I followed suit. Exiting the room, he walked further up the stairs to the next landing and then pointed to the only door there.

"You're sharing with your sister, Hermione and Ginny, since it's the biggest bedroom in the house…" He muttered, and with that, he turned on his heels and left me to my own company.

"Well, aren't you just a charmer," I mumbled to myself as the door shut behind him. I glanced around the room, taking in its appearance; it was pretty big, with four single beds fitting comfortably into it and still with enough space to fit a small desk, chair and a wardrobe. Admittedly it was rather dark, with the only grimy window letting in just a shed of light from the grey world outside. The walls were decorated with a fowl, outdated dark green wallpaper, and the floorboards were, as with the rest of the house, a faded mahogany, with a few cracks around the edges.

I sat on one of the beds without anything on it (since two of the beds had clothes and books strewn across them) and lay down, inhaling and exhaling deeply, holding each breath for three seconds, since I'd heard somewhere that it was supposed to calming.

It hadn't even been an entire day, and I already missed Greece, and my father more than anything else. One week ago everything had been fine. And then he just didn't come home…

Dad had always worked away, often going on long business trips to different countries. I could guess now that they weren't really business trips, but something to do with magic. As much as I loved him, a part of me couldn't believe he'd kept a wholly different world away from me. I sighed, rolling over onto my side and slipping the back of my hands under my head as a support.

I'd never see him again. I'd never hear his voice. He'd never play catch with me out in the garden. He'd never see Callie and me grow up… I was still coming to terms with all of this, but there was still another question lingering on my mind: What was it that was so special about us?

Something about Callie or me had made the most powerful and darkest wizard in the world kill our father because he wouldn't tell him about us, and neither of us had any idea what that special thing might be.

I fell into a deep sleep with that question still on my mind, still existing whilst my father did not.

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><p>I groaned loudly as I rolled over the next morning, facing the ceiling. I sat up slowly and looked around; Ginny and Calista were both asleep, but the bed that had yesterday had stacks of books piled on it was completely empty, and was now neatly made with the pillows fluffed and the duvet tucked in around the edges of the mattress.<p>

"Hermione," I whispered to myself. Slowly, so as to not to wake up the other two, I got out of bed and pulled on my jacket over my flimsy pyjama top. Zipping it up as I shut the door behind me, I began to quietly descend the stairs.

I found Hermione in the kitchen with Mrs Weasley, nibbling on a piece of toast. She turned to face me when I entered, a small smile spreading across her lips.

"Hello, Destiny," she greeted me gently, motioning for me to sit down next to her.

"Hey," I muttered as Mrs Weasley turned to smile at me and dropped a few more slices of toast onto a now empty plate in the centre of the table. I grabbed a slice, spreading butter and honey on it.

"You're up quite early," Hermione said, obviously trying to make conversation as I took my first bite.

"What time is it?" I asked through the mouthful, and she rolled her eyes as crumbs fell into my lap.

"6 o'clock. Normally it's another few hours before anyone else comes down."

I nodded, swallowing and taking another bite. "Erm- Hermione?" I asked, suddenly remembering part of the conversation from the previous night.

"Yes?"

"I was just wondering about Hogwarts…" She smiled encouragingly, nodding her head for me to continue. "Well… We're going into Diagonal alley to get school stuff, right?"

"It's Diagon Alley, but, yes, we are, she answered, correcting me.

"I was just wondering what sort of stuff you need for a magic school…" I hadn't thought much about it at first, but I'd realised there must have been a whole list of things new to me about this school - not only would I be learning magic, but I was sure class systems would be different here to those in Greece, too.

"Oh - Well, you'll need a wand, robes, books, a cauldron, and you might want a pet - I suggest you get a cat or an owl."

"Um, right… What subjects are there at Hogwarts?" This I had been particularly interested in.

"Oooh, well there's Charms, Transfiguration, Potions, and then there's Defence Against the Dark Arts, Astronomy, History of Magic, and Herbology, but I also take Ancient Runes, Arithmancy and Care of Magical Creatures. Harry and Ron both take Divination, but I find it a rather silly branch of magic…" The look on her face suggested she could have talked about her subjects for hours. I grinned and nodded, pretending to know what it all meant.

"Is there anything else I should know about Hogwarts?" I asked, dreading her answer, sure there'd me an entire lest of strict rules to abide by, something I'd never been the best at.

"I don't think so… Oh, I've missed out the four houses! They're Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff and Slytherin."

"Houses? We get our own houses?" I asked, confused. She giggled softly, obviously amused at my lack of knowledge of the school she'd been attending for four years, going on to her fifth.

"No, I mean that we all share a common room and dormitories. You'll be sorted into a house when you get to Hogwarts. Everyone here who goes to Hogwarts is in Gryffindor."

"So no pressure. But seriously, if you end up in Slytherin, you're not welcome here again," Ron added as he walked into the room. Hermione frowned at him, shaking her head.

"That's not fair, Ron. Just ignore him Destiny, you'll be fine no matter what house you're in. And what are you doing up so early anyway?" She directed her question to Ron, a look of surprise crossing her features. He shrugged and took a seat beside me.

"Harry. He was… moaning."

"_Moaning_?" I asked sceptically, raising my eyebrows.

"Yeah - about Cedric," He said, looking at Hermione. Her surprised expression changed to one of pure worry, and she began to nervously twiddle with her thumbs.

"Who's Cedric? I didn't realise Harry swung that way..." Ron threw me a look, rolling his eyes.

"No, Destiny… Look, Harry had a hard time at the end of last year, and he's gonna have it even worse this year. He was moaning because he was having a nightmare about what happened."

"What did happen? Everyone's going on about Harry like he's some sort of saint, and then I get dirty looks when I don't know what's going on! Can't you just _tell_ me?" I said, looking desperately at them both. They exchanged a look, and then Hermione sighed.

"I'm really not sure we should tell you. But I don't think you can go to Hogwarts without knowing… If I were you, I'd try to get Harry to tell you." I snorted at her suggestion.

"You really think he's gonna tell me? After yesterday?" I asked, and she sighed in response.

"It was only one day, and Harry was in a bad mood anyway. I can't really blame him for that, though…"

"Blame me for what?" Harry yawned as he came in. Hermione's eyes widened.

"Er - Nothing," she mumbled. He frowned at her but didn't ask further questions. He sat down next to Ron and began helping himself to the food Mrs Weasley had laid out on the table, piling his plate high and beginning to eat his breakfast.

"How come you were up so early?" Harry asked after swallowing a piece of bacon, turning to Ron, who suddenly became very interested in a loose thread on his jeans.

"Well - You were a bit… er, _loud_, last night," he muttered, almost too quietly for me to hear.

Harry flushed and also lost interest in the conversation. I, however, felt the need to further embarrass him, a small smirk turning my lips.

"Yeah, about someone called Cedric. I could hear you from our room - I'll be surprised if anyone within a 10 mile radius didn't…" My smirk widened as he slowly became redder with each word.

"You weren't that loud, Harry," Hermione told him whilst glaring at me. I grinned back, taking the napkin beside my plate to my face and wiping it around my mouth before laying it back on my empty plate.

"I'm only telling him the truth! It's better than lying." Harry scowled at me. I hadn't actually heard a word from him all night, but it was nice to see someone other than Callie or Mum upset.

Hermione rolled her eyes and we all went back to eating in silence, Harry or myself occasionally shooting glares at the other. When we'd finished, Mrs Weasley asked us to begin cleaning. By this time, most of the others had arrived downstairs and were eating their breakfast.

I was assigned the job of scrubbing the inside of a cabinet that Ron had just emptied when I became interested in the conversation the three teenagers had begun.

"So when's the hearing?" Ron asked Harry in a hushed voice.

"Monday next week," Harry replied gloomily, kneeling back on his knees.

"They can't expel you, you didn't do anything wrong," Hermione said soothingly, a hint of a frown between her brows.

"You've been expelled?" I asked, turning to look at him. His head twisted round to face me, an irritated look in his eyes.

"It's none of your business," he snapped. I shrugged and instead turned to ask Hermione.

"Why's he been expelled?" She sighed, shooting a look at Harry.

"She's allowed to know Harry, everyone else here does." He didn't answer, so she turned back to me. "He did magic outside of school, so he's got to go to a hearing. But it's not even his fault, he was defending himself, and the law clearly states that an underage witch or wizard can use magic in life threatening situations."

"We're not supposed to use magic? What's the point of being able to do it, then?" Harry raised his eyebrows at me incredulously.

"Only when we're underage; when you become 17, you can do magic whenever you want, but not in front of muggles," Hermione explained.

"Muggles?"

"Oh, I'm sorry, I forget how much you don't know yet! Muggles are people who can't do magic." I nodded slowly.

"So… My mum's a muggle?" Hermione nodded and smiled. Everything still seemed so strange, it felt like I was having to learn an entirely new and exotic language. At that moment, I felt quite thankful that I didn't have to learn English; my father being Greek and my mother English, I was fluent in both the languages.

No one really spoke much for the rest of the day; we finished cleaning two of the rooms, but after that, we were all so tired we only really had time for dinner and then straight to bed. As I lay there again, as I had the previous night, thoughts of my first impressions swam in my mind.

I hadn't known the boy for long, but it was obvious to me that Harry and I were far from being friends. I seemed to get on the best with Hermione out of the trio, but Ron seemed okay. In time, I could be close to them both. Perhaps Hogwarts wouldn't be so bad after all. At the moment, Callie seemed to have it the worst out of the two of us: None of the teenagers here would be in her year at Hogwarts. She would have to start off from scratch when she got to school…

Although I knew it shouldn't have helped, the thought comforted me as I fell asleep.

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><p><strong>Hope you liked it :) <strong>

_**Meg x**_


	3. Jealousy

**Reviews? *winkwink**nudgenudge*:D**

**Disclaimer: **Nope, I do not own Harry Potter. All I own in this story is the Dranias family.

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><p><strong>Chapter Three: Jealousy<strong>

I had been at Grimmauld Place for a few days now, and in that time I had become to feel more comfortable there than I had upon my first arrival.

However, mum was beginning to worry me. It was fine for her to be upset; expected, really, as was expected of all of us when a loved one is taken from us, and I certainly was no exception. But mum hadn't made any sort of improvement, other than the fact that she would at least excuse herself now if she felt the need to cry. Which was often.

She wasn't alone, though. I had heard Calista's sobbing in the night, the only coherent words in her disturbed sleep being our father's name.

Although I was better at disguising my sadness than mum or Calista, my dreams were flooded with images of my father. Happy memories. These were the worst, for they reminded me of the things I could never have.

There was a particular dream I hated. Christmas time, two years ago.

_I sat cross-legged on the floor, waiting patiently for father to return._

_It was ridiculous he should have to work on Christmas day. I had no idea what he did at work: I had never taken the time to ask. But whatever it was, surely it couldn't be so important as to take one of the most special days of the year away from him?_

_The clock hands continued to tick by as Calista shuffled anxiously from her position by the door._

"_He won't be much longer, will he?" She asked nervously. A worried crease appeared between mother's eyebrows._

"_I hope not…" She whispered. I said nothing; I didn't want to miss the sound of his hand twisting the door handle, his heavy feet landing loudly on the stone floor in the hall…_

_I had no doubt in him. I knew he would come. He always did…_

_And I was right; 15 minutes later, father entered, carrying a large bag of presents. Smiling widely, I had flung my arms around his neck, and he had swung me around in a circle before putting me down and planting a soft kiss on my hair. And then he had turned to Calista, and she had stood, awestruck. She had not expected him to come. She had not believed. She had not hoped…_

_But he ignored her reaction, instead pulling her into a hug, dragging mum and I with her._

_The rest of Christmas day was wonderful. We opened our presents, we ate a roast dinner around a table, and we were together. It had been so long since we were all together like this…_

Every time I had this dream, I would awake with tears streaming down my cheeks, swivelling my head to be sure no one else had been wakened by me. But they were always asleep, and for that I was grateful.

It was Monday now: the day of Harry's hearing. I didn't like Harry, but I didn't want him expelled. From what Hermione had told me about his situation with the Dementors, there was no reason to expel him.

But I refused to tell Harry this. Our only conversations had consisted of nothing but sarcastic remarks and insults, so there was no way I would be opening up to him any time soon.

A soft chorus of "Good luck, Harry," went about the room before he smiled slightly and left with Mr Weasley following him close behind.

Mrs Weasley sighed and turned to everyone, selecting a section of the house for each of us to clean. I groaned; I had been cleaning the house every day since I had arrived, and yet it was still filthy. The house-elf, Kreacher, wasn't much help either; every time we tried to throw something out, he would sneak into the room and go though the rubbish bags, saving anything related to the Black family, or anything at all valuable.

As we began to push all the furniture to the other side of the room, I brought up the topic we were all wondering about.

"Do you really think he'll get off, then?" I panted as I began to shove a particularly heavy desk.

"He should do, if they follow their own laws," Hermione muttered, standing up straight and pushing hair out of her eyes.

"Yeah, but this is Harry. They hate him at the moment, don't they?" Ron said, slumping against the wall.

"Do you think they hate him enough to change the law?" I asked, sitting down next to him. He shook his head.

"They can't… He'll get off, after all he's done, he has to…" I shifted uncomfortably. I didn't like it when they said things like this; any reference to Harry's past and I had no idea what they were talking about. They refused to tell me anything about him. According to them, it was his business that he would share with me when he trusted me with it.

They both exchanged a look, but dropped the subject and went back to cleaning.

After two hours, the room was far tidier than it had been. Looking over our work proudly, I smiled. Hopefully, Harry would be here soon to tell us what had happened so we could all stop worrying.

As if on cue, I heard the front door open.

Hermione and Ron stepped past me to follow Harry through to the kitchen, but I quickly caught up with them. Harry and Mr Weasley both had a slight spring in their step, and I was sure it would not be there if he'd been expelled. And as he wheeled around to face us and all the others that had begun to pour into the room, my suspicion was confirmed.

"I got off," he said happily, grinning. And then it seemed to me that everyone was trying to crush Harry.

The only other people who weren't in on the attempt to suffocate him were Fred, George and Ginny, who were singing very loudly,

"HE GOT OFF, HE GOT OFF, HE GOT OFF!" When Harry finally emerged from the throng of people all trying to talk to him, he sneaked into the corner, a grin still placed firmly on his lips. Rolling my eyes, I approached him.

"Did you get off, then?" I asked sarcastically. He didn't even bother to scowl or glare at me this time; instead, he nodded fervently. Sighing, I took a seat beside him.

"Dumbledore turned up. He's the headmaster of Hogwarts," Harry said, watching the others as they realised Harry had disappeared from their midst.

"Oh," was all I was able to say. I didn't know enough about Harry or Dumbledore to make any real response.

"Yeah, I think I would have been expelled if it weren't for him." I nodded slowly, turning away from him.

"Er, I'm tired… I think I'm going to bed…" I mumbled, standing up and leaving him. I hadn't realised how tired I was getting. I supposed the dreams had been stopping me from getting any proper sleep. Whatever the reason, I certainly wasn't going to manage throwing a party, which was exactly what the others had planned, by the looks on their faces as they hurried over to Harry once more.

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><p>The next morning, I was woken by an excited shriek. Climbing back into the bed I had just fallen out of, I gasped "What is it, Hermione?"<p>

She was standing beside her bed, clutching a letter in her shaking hands, a wide grin spreading across her face.

"I'm a prefect! Oh, I bet Harry is too! C'mon Des, we need to go see him!" She said, pulling on my ankle that was poking out from underneath the bed sheets.

"I need to go back to sleep," I grumbled, kicking her hand away in annoyance. She huffed loudly, and I could just imagine her placing her hands on her hips, her eyes narrowed at my drowsy form.

Grinning to myself, I closed my eyes, ready to fall asleep again, only to be disturbed by the cool air against my warm skin, automatically sending a shiver through my body and goose bumps to appear on my bare arms.

"You _are_ awake, and you have no excuse not to come with me!" Hermione was holding my quilt, which she had pulled free from my tight grasp, wearing a triumphant expression on her face. Scowling, I stood up.

"Fine, but let me get changed first." She beamed, leaving through the door to give me some privacy, trailing the quilt behind her so I wouldn't just get back into bed.. Sighing, I began to look around the room for my clothes.

Ginny and Calista weren't in their beds, so I must have overslept: I was always one of the first in the house to be up, besides Hermione and Mrs Weasley. It had only be recently that I'd started getting up so early, mostly to avoid my dreams. Back in Greece, if I was given the chance, I'd roll out of bed at midday, and only then it was to get something to eat.

Eventually, after searching through my messy pile of scattered clothes, I managed to find a pair of jeans and a t-shirt to pull on before I headed out the door, where I found Hermione leaning against the wall, re-reading her letter. The quilt she'd taken was in a pool at her feet, so I took the liberty of pulling it away from her and shoving it back in our room. When I turned back to her, her eyes were still scanning the piece of parchment.

Rolling my eyes, I waved my hand in front of her.

"_Hello_? Earth to Hermione?" She jumped in shock, having been brought out of her absorption by the letter.

"That wasn't funny!" She muttered indignantly as I began to laugh. Glaring, she pulled on my arm to make me move down the stairs, stopping on Ron and Harry's landing. Hermione opened their door gently and walked inside, me following closely behind her.

Harry and Ron were stood in the centre of the room, their heads craned as they both read the same letter in Harry's hand.

"I knew you'd get it, I knew it!" Hermione let out a squeal upon noticing the shiny red badge in Harry's other hand and flung her arms around his neck, a broad grin spread across he face as she totally ignored the now blushing Ron, who had just been thrown the prefect badge by Harry.

"I'm not prefect, Hermione, Ron is," Harry mumbled, struggling to free himself from her grasp. She eyed him carefully, and then glanced at Ron.

"Ron?"

"Read the letter, if you don't believe him," Ron said, shoving the parchment into her hands. She watched him curiously for a moment, and then read the letter, her cheeks tinting a pale pink when she looked up from it.

"Wow - um, congratulations, Ron…" She said, a tone of amazement in her voice that I'm sure could have been taken as an insult. Ron, however, did not respond to her in that way, but still seemed quite shocked himself at his achievement.

"Thanks… I'll just go see mum…" He mumbled, stepping past me in an almost trance-like state as he made his way to the kitchen.

"Er- Harry?" Hermione asked timidly. Harry had his back towards us, and was quite obviously pretending to repack his already neat and full trunk.

"Yeah?" His voice was toneless, flat.

"Can I borrow Hedwig? I want to tell mum and dad…" She trailed off, letting the question hang as she fiddled with the badge held between her fingers. Harry gave a sharp nod of his head, still without turning to face her, and Hermione muttered a small "Thanks," before leaving.

Harry sighed when the door swung shut behind her, placing a white shirt back into his trunk, in the exact spot where I was sure it had been in the first place before sitting on his bed. He was paying me no attention, apparently believing me to have followed after Hermione, and I couldn't help but feel a flicker of irritation towards him.

I knew full well why he was avoiding eye contact, seemingly upset about the matter when he should have been happy for his best friend: He was _jealous_.

"Is it not allowed for Ron to beat you at something?" I said coldly. Harry's head jerked up, his brows pulling together as he realised I was still present in his room. "Ron's your best friend, and you're moping because he got prefect and you didn't," I continued, glaring at him and feeling absolutely no sympathy - I rarely did with Harry anyway.

He made no response, but seemed to be getting lost in his thoughts, judging by the way his eyes glazed over. A silence settled over us, and I spent this time with my eyes narrowed stubbornly as he stared off into space, completely in his own little world. At that moment, Ron entered, wearing a very large grin.

"Mum says she'll get me a new broomstick when we go into Diagon Alley later!" He said happily, looking between Harry's blank face and my cold expression. "What happened?" He asked bluntly, the tension between the black-haired boy and myself quite obvious. Forcing a smile, I turned to him.

"I never realised Harry literally _was_ the green-eyed monster, is all. It's okay Ron, I haven't hit him or anything." He frowned, and I distinctly head him mutter a low "Yet," under his breath. Grinning and pretending I hadn't heard him, I carried on talking. "But, honestly Ron, that's great, you getting prefect."

"Thanks," He said, now turning to face Harry.

"Yeah, well done mate," Harry added, finally coming out of his trance and giving Ron a brief pat on the back. Ron shook his head, his smile fading.

"Everyone expected you to get it. _I _expected you to get it, not me." Harry gave a small shrug, supposedly in an effort to rid his best friend of this thought.

"That's not true Ron, you know it's not. And it doesn't matter anyway, you're the one who's prefect now." Ron didn't say anything for a moment, but still appeared troubled by the thought. Harry, seeing this, quickly added "And besides, I've caused too much trouble. Even Dumbledore wouldn't get away with making me a prefect after that hearing and everything." Ron seemed slightly more appeased by this, and gave a small smile.

"Yeah, I s'pose so…" He said, trailing off and turning the shiny new badge over in his hand.

Hermione's face appeared in the doorway after a brief silence between us, her pale face flushed. "Thanks, Harry. Hedwig's just left now," she said brightly as she stepped in, beaming at the three of us and looking thoroughly pleased with herself.

Harry nodded in return at her, and Ron's stomach growled loudly. Grinning sheepishly, he gestured to the door, indictaing for us to go to breakfast, and we obliged, Hermione and myself laughing lightly at Ron's rather incredible appetite.

As if to further justify our laughing at him when we sat at the table in the kitchen, Ron took five pieces of toast and began buttering them, and hungry look in his eyes.

"When are we going to Diagon Alley, mum?" He'd just taken his first bite, and his voice was muffled through his mouthful of food, forcing me to have to strain to make out what he was saying.

"After you've all had breakfast," she replied, a look of utter revolsion across her face at her son's eating habits.

Quickly swallowing my last bite of toast, I stood up with Hermione and Harry, who had both finished, and Ron, who was trying to sneak another piece of toast out with him. Unfortunately for him, Mrs Weasley saw and took it off of him before shooing him out into another room with a large fireplace.

"Okay, Fred, you go first, but wait for us on the other side!" She said, handing Fred a pot full of dust. He grinned at us as he stood in the fireplace, seeming to think he appeared quite impressive as Calista and I stared at him. In actual fact, I was trying to work out what on earth he was doing.

"Diagon Alley!" He said loudly and clearly, throwing the dust he had taken from the pot. Green fire erupted around his body, the flames licking his limbs, and I jumped back in surprise. Blinking, I expected to see a very burnt Fred to be still standing there, but instead, after the flames had died away, there was only small cloud of dust in his place.

Slowly, everyone in the room did the same thing; they each took a handful of dust from the pot, scattered it in the fireplace and then disappeared with the green flames. Finally, after Calista had been taken by the flames with a very worried and uncertain look on her face, I was left alone with Mrs Weasley. She smiled reasurringly and handed me the pot, and watching it wearily, as if expecting it to suddenly swallow my hand, I took a handful and copied exactly what the others had done.

"Diagon Alley!" I felt my stomach lurch as I began to spin at an incredibly fast speed, scrunching my eyes shut as I waited for the horrible feeling of being on a ridiculously huge rollercoaster to stop.

And, as quick as it had begun, I was stood sunddely still, my feet resting firmly on the ground.

I opened my eyes; I was still in a fireplace, but a different one. Stepping out, I saw wizards and witches dressed in flowing robes and looking interestedly at books, or talking amongst themselves.

It was quite easy to guess what type of shop I was in: Hermione had hurried down one section of the store and had her head stuck in a particularly thick book. Harry, Ron, Calista and the rest of the Weasleys, on the other hand, were standing in the middle of the shop, making the most noise out of all the wizards in the shop and getting themselves many irritated glances.

"What are you guys doing?" I asked curiously as I approached them.

"Checking out Fred and George's skiving snack boxes. Here, have a look!" Ginny said, pulling on my arm so I could stand where she had been minutes before.

Fred and George were holding a box full of what looked like sweets, all in very bright packaging and looking as ordinary as any I had seen in the markets in Greece.

"And this one gives you giant pustules! But we haven't worked out how to get rid of them after you've eaten it yet, though…"

"What are you all doing?" Mrs Weasley said sharply, stumbling as she stepped out of the fireplace but watching her twin sons with an accusing look etched across her face.

"Nothing!" Fred and George both said at once, quickly shoving the skiving snack boxes into their pockets. A look of reproval on her face, Mrs Weasley eyed her sons suspiciously.

"I need to get some money out. We're going to Gringotts," she said slowly, still watching her children for a moment, as if silently warning them, before she strode past them.

"Hermione, c'mon!" I yelled across the shop, making Hermione look up and earning myself a dirty look from the witch at the counter. Hermione hurriedly put the book back on the shelf and quickly made her way over to our group, a slightly dejected look on her face at having to leave the shop.

"Is it possible for you _not_ to read a book the moment you see one?" I asked incredulously when she stood beside me. She didn't say anything, but scowled and walked on past me, catching up with the other Weasleys.

Diagon Alley was a narrow, cobbled street, packed with wizards and witched dressed similarly to those I'd seen in the book shop. The shop windows were filled with unusual things, from cauldrons to owls to racing brooms, and every building appeared to be different from the one beside it, and all looked to be relatively old. In the distance was a tall, slightly crooked white marble building, the word 'Gringotts' engraved across the top in gold lettering

As I stared in awe at the bank, something suddenly occurred to me. Calista and I wouldn't have any money here. Our mum only had muggle money, and I'd seen the money they used here in the wizarding world. If dad had had wizard money, then that wouldn't be any use either. His bank would have been in Greece, not England.

I couldn't help myself from imagining all the different ways in which we'd find we had no money whatsoever as we entered the wizarding bank.

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><p><strong>As always, hope you enjoyed it!<strong>

_**Meg x**_


	4. Into Diagon Alley

**Sorry this one's a bit shorter than the others =/ Thank you to those that have reviewed, I really appreaciate it! :)**

**Disclaimer: **I still don't own Harry Potter, or anything else in this chapter you might recognise.

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><p><strong>Chapter Four: Into Diagon Alley<strong>

Inside Gringotts was a number of exceptionally ulgy little men that I could only describe as goblins. Most were sat behind high counters that loomed imposingly over us as we walked between them, speaking in hushed voices to the witches and wizards who wanted to withdraw money or were counting coins into large piles. The remaining goblins were kneeling on the floor, polishing the already gleaming marble tiles.

Mrs Weasley approached one of the goblins at a counter and spoke softly to him. He muttered something back to her, and she reached into her bag, pulling out three small, golden keys. He took them in his knobbly hands, and gestured to another goblin to come over.

They exchanged a low conversation, after which the new goblin hurried over to us. "Follow me!" He said in a voice much higher than I would have expected, judging by his unattractive and certainly unfeminine appearance.

The goblin lead us to a cart, which, with much effort, we all managed to squeeze into, however uncomfortable. The cart began, slowly at first, to move along the tracks it was on, and the further underground and darker it got, the faster the cart went. My eyes were shut tight and my stomach was turning by the time the cart finally came to a standstill.

"The Weasley vault!" The goblin called, jumping out of the cart. Stumbling over my own feet as I pulled myself out, I followed the others over to a large, heavy black door. The goblin entered one of the three keys into the lock and the door slid open with a high-pitched creak.

Inside was a small, modest pile of gold, silver and bronze coins. Mrs Weasley shoved the whole lot into her purse, and nodded at the goblin for him to shut and lock the door.

After our second ride in the cart, we again stumbled out for Harry to retireve some of his own money. He seemed to be trying very hard to prevent the rest of us from seeing inside, but I managed to get a glimpse of a much larger pile of gold, and I suddenly understood why he didn't want the Weasleys to see it.

And lastly, we arrived at what I assumed (and hoped) to be mine and Calista's vault. The goblin put the key in, and I held my breath as the door slid open. I exhaled in a gust of relief as my eyes landed on the sizable amount of gold revealed in the vault. Exchanging a look, Callie and I both took enough to buy us what we needed, before sitting back in the cart for our final nauseating journey back to the main hall of the bank that we'd left miles above us.

Hermione spoke separately to one of the goblins, pulling out a wadge of pound notes from her purse, apparently exchanging her muggle money. Once finished, she hurried over to us, and together we exited the bank.

"Mrs Weasley?" I asked as we stepped out into the bright sunlight, shielding my eyes from the harsh rays.

"Yes dear?" She answered absent-mindedly, looking over the many heads in Diagon Alley to see into one of the shop windows.

"Where did all that money in mine and Calista's vault come from?"

"It was your father's money," she said softly, giving me her full attention now, and confusion played through my thoughts and I was sure seeped into my facial expression.

"But… We lived in Greece. Wasn't his money kept there?" She nodded slowly, her warm eyes still on me.

"Yes, it was, but your mother signed quite a number of documents upon your arrival, which included the transfer of your money in the bank there to Gringotts."

"Oh," I mumbled, and couldn't help but think how very muggle-ish that was. I'd expected some sort of magically binding contract, not something as simple and mundane as signing a few documents. Apparently, I was getting ahead of myself on the whole magic thing.

"Oh, Ron! We need to go to Madam Malkin's! You, Calista and Destiny need new robes!" Mrs Weasley called to Ron, who was walking in the front of the group with Harry and Hermione. He groaned, turning to face his mother.

"_Why_ do I need robes?"

"You're growing out of yours again, and since we're going there anyway…" She replied in a tone that blatantly said Ron was getting new robes whether he wanted to or not. He rolled his eyes, but nevertheless grumbled a low "_Fine_."

Madam Malkin's was a a relatively small shop, so I was surprised at the sheer amount of fabrics in all textures and colours that filled the store. Harry, Hermione, Ginny, Fred and George all waited outside whilst Madam Malkin began taking our measurements, the tape-measure twisting around my limbs on its own. Eventually, after sticking a few too many pins in than I'd have liked (and I was fairly certain one had drawn blood), she gave us each a set of black robes, and we each paid 9 Galleons.

"Now, you lot, I'm taking Ron to get his broomstick. You go get all your things and meet me back at Flourish and Blotts after," Mrs Weasley said as we met the rest of the group outside. We nodded, and left a very embarrassed looking Ron, who's face nearly matched the colour of his hair, with his mother.

Calista had left with Ginny to get everything they needed together, and Fred and George had taken off in the opposite direction to the rest of us, leaving Hermione, Harry and I together.

"Okay, all I need is The Standard Book of Spells (Grade 5) and Defensive Magical Theory... What do you two need?" Hermione said, looking up from her list of school supplies.

"Same as you," Harry answered, shoving his hands into his jeans pockets.

"A cauldron, potion ingredients, a wand, a telescope, brass scales, all my new books and I want an owl, too…" I listed, reading from my own letter.

"I think we should start with Ollivander's then," Hermione said, looking over my shoulder and smiling knowingly.

Ollivander's was a shabby looking shop with exceptionally dusty windows, letting barely any light inside, and the walls were painted in black paint that was fading and peeling off at the edges. Together, we approached the counter, behind which a man with greying hair was stood.

"Ah, Mr Potter and Miss Granger, what can I do for you today?" He asked politely, although his eyes were fixed on me as he said this.

"Actually, Destiny needs a wand." Hermione gave me a gentle poke in the back to make me move closer to him, as much as I didn't want to. There was something about him that just made me feel uncomfortable.

"Destiny… Destiny Dranias, I believe?" He murmured. My eyes widened, and I twisted my head round to ask Hermione a silent question. She smiled reassuringly, so I slowly turned back to him, giving one short nod in response to his question.

"Hold your arms out…" He ordered as a tape measure came whizzing round the corner of some shelves. Just as the one had in Madam Malkin's had done, it began measuring around my waist, hips, chest, arms, legs…

"Stop, now," Mr Ollivander said, and the tape fell immediately in a crumpled heap on the ground. He was holding a long box in his hand, which he had outstretched to me. Taking the box from him, I lifted the lid and took out the thin wand inside. I held it in my hand, wondering what on earth I was supposed to do with it.

"Wave it, idiot," Harry hissed from behind me. Glaring at him, I flicked the wand lightly in my hand in his direction. He ducked as a series of small red sparks shot out at him.

Laughing delightedly, I brought my arm back to aim some more sparks his way, but the wand was then snatched from my hand.

"No, that one is most certainly _not_ for you," Mr Ollivander said sternly, handing me a new box.

"But I liked that one! It nearly hurt _him_!" I whined, jerking my head at Harry.

"Try this one," he said, shoving the wand that had been inside the new box at me. Taking it reluctantly, I flicked it again at Harry. This time, water sprayed out the end, soaking Harry's t-shirt.

"Okay, I like this one, too," I admitted, grinning. Harry scowled at me and snatched the wand from my hand, giving it back to Mr Ollivander.

"No, that one was not for you either… Let's see… We'll try this one…" I was quite happy to keep trying wands; the more I tried, the more irritated Harry got. I had tested around 8 wands when Mr Ollivander seemed truly pleased about a wand he had picked off a shelf. Having no idea what he was looking for in the wand, I gave it a wave.

Instead of doing something that would further annoy Harry, as I had wanted, it began to emit a light, purple haze that surrounded me, and when I stretched my hand out to touch it, it dissolved into the air.

"Found it! This is definitely the one!" Mr Ollivander exclaimer happily, taking the wand from my right hand and placing it in the velvet lining of the box. "Purple haze… Rather rare, I must say, although not unheard of. Perhaps…" He stopped mid-sentence, apparently contemplating something. He then continued as if he had not said anything at all out of the ordinary.

"Miss Dranias, I believe we have found the correct wand for you… Willow and unicorn hair, ten inches… That will be seven galleons, please. And I suppose I will see Calista Dranias later?" Mr Ollivander said softly as I handed him my money in exchange for the wand. I nodded slowly, muttering a small "Thanks," and departing the shop.

"He's weird," I said immediately once I was certain we were completely out of earshot of the wandmaker. Hermione pursed her lips, nodding her head slowly.

"Yes, but he got you your wand, didn't he? Oh, Eeylop's Owl Emporium is just over there! Destiny, you wanted an owl, right?" And, twenty minutes later, the doorbell rang behind us as I carried my new speckled-grey owl, whom I had named Aldara.

"Where did you get that name from?" Hermione asked interestedly, watching as Aldara ruffled her wings inside her cage.

"The name means 'a winged gift' in Greek. I thought it fitted." I answered, shrugging and stroking her soft weathers fondly.

"It does! Honestly, she's beautiful…" I smiled, nodding in agreement as Hermione too stopped to touch the owl.

"Okay, enough about the bird. Hermione, we still need to go to the Apothecary and then we need to go to Flourish and Blotts," Harry cut in, watching us boredly. Hermione sighed, withdrawing her hand and following Harry, and I glared at his back as he lead us to our next destination.

Eventually, after having bought everything that was listed on my supplies list (besides the books), we made our way to the book shop we'd arrived in, Flourish and Blotts, where the others were waiting outside, all carrying paper bags from the shops they'd visited.

"Got everything, dear?" Mrs Weasley asked kindly. I nodded, grinning and holding my many bags to show her.

We then entered Flourish and Blotts together, as everyone seemed to need a copy of the Standard Book of Spells. I then needed a copy of every other book Harry, Ron and Hermione had needed for their previous years at Hogwarts to catch up on the subjects, since I would be starting four years later than everyone else.

Having finally finished shopping, and carrying a ridiculous amount of books that were making the straps of the bags cut into my fingers, we used the same green fire to get home.

"What _is_ that stuff?" I asked Hermione breathlessly as she tripped out of the fireplace after me, since I'd dropped all of my bags on the floor as I'd stumbled out.

"It's called Floo powder. And thanks," she added as I caught her own shopping before she dropped them just as I had done.

I spent the afternoon flicking through my new books and waving my wand around aimlessly, wondering what it would be like when I could finally do some of the spells that were mentioned in the books. I had already packed most of my belongings into the trunk that I would be taking on the train; there was only a mere three days left to go before I would be attending Hogwarts, and if I was honest, it scared the crap out of me.

"Des?" Calista said, breaking the silence that had filled the room. Night had fallen, but Hermione and Ginny were both still downstairs, leaving my sister and I alone in the bedroom. We hadn't spoken for a while, which was unusual for us: in Greece, we'd always been very close.

"Yeah?" I answered, not looking up from _Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them_. She breathed in deeply before responding.

"What did Mr Ollivander say to you, when you got your wand?" I frowned and looked round at her. She was sat on her bed, watching me intently and biting her lip.

"Nothing really… Why?"

"Because… Well, he told me that you were also surrounded by a purple mist… Des, so was I."

"So?" She rolled her eyes, and suddenly her uncomfortable manner was dropped.

"He also said that it was very rare. Des, do you not think it strange that we both did the same thing in one day that's really uncommon, even here?" I shrugged nonchalantly.

"Not really. It was probably some sister connection thing… I dunno, something magical. Honestly, Callie, I reckon you're over-thinking things. Relax." She didn't look convinced, but I decided it better not to argue with her. We were both exceptionally stubborn, and I wasn't really in the mood for a fall out over a weird wand-maker.

Closing my book, I got up and slipped Aldara an owl treat between the bars of her cage before getting between the sheets of my bed.

But I couldn't go to sleep, because Callie was still sat in the same place, her side light on, chewing her bottom lip.

"Oh, for God's sake, Calista, go to sleep!" I muttered angrily, getting back out of bed and switching her lamp off. She didn't say anything back to me, and I had the feeling she didn't go to sleep until much later in the night.

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><p><strong>I hope you liked it! Reviews? :D<strong>

_**Meg x**_


	5. Journey to Hogwarts

**Thank you so much to those that have reviewed so far, you made me smile :)**

**Disclaimer: **Harry Potter belongs to the wonderful JK Rowling, not to me.

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><p><strong>Chapter Five: Journey to Hogwarts<strong>

Our final days at Grimmauld place passed in a blur, and too soon it was the day we would be leaving for Hogwarts.

Of course, I was looking forward to Hogwarts. From what Hermione had told me, it was a brilliant school, far better than my previous muggle school in Greece. But Grimmauld place, although not a particularly appealing house, was where I had made my first close friends. Because of that, it held a certain attraction for me, and I was afraid to let go of that.

My friends in Greece had simply been a group of people I would hover near, occasionally throwing in a comment to add to the conversation. It's not that I was shy - I was far from it - but that we didn't exactly _click_. I didn't understand them, and I got the feeling that they didn't understand me. It wasn't so much a friendship as it was a way to get through the school year without being completely on my own.

I sighed at the reflection in the mirror. It was 5 in the morning, and I was preparing myself for what I was sure would be a very long and tiring day.

The girl in the mirror had dark tresses that waved gently to the middle of her back, framing an olive skinned face. Her deep brown eyes stared back at me through her black lashes, fitting the traditional Grecian appearance perfectly, causing her to blend seamlessly into any crowd in her home country.

I frowned, and raised a hand to my nose. The girl copied. Her nose looked slightly flattened and too wide to be in proportion to the rest of her face. I dropped my hand, and sighed again. Picking flaws at myself was not going to make today go any better.

I pulled my gaze away from my reflection, staring around the still dark room. Calista and Ginny were both fast asleep, but Hermione was beginning to stir.

I got ready in silence, so as not to disturb their sleeping forms, unpacking and repacking my trunk for something to do. Around the fourth time I had started to take my new robes out, Hermione woke up.

"Des?" She asked groggily, sitting up slowly. I smiled at her and nodded; it was getting lighter, so she would be able to see me.

"What time is it?" She mumbled, dragging her feet out of bed.

"5.45. You have ages to get ready," I whispered. She nodded and stood up, making her way to the mirror on the desk. She sat on the little wooden stool and took the brush, pulling it through her tangled hair and wincing.

"How long do you think it'll be before we leave?" I murmured, glancing at Ginny. She had groaned in her sleep, and rolled over to face the wall.

"Mrs Weasley said we're all walking to King's Cross, which should probably take about 20 minutes from here…" She answered quietly, sitting beside me on my bed.

"Why are we walking?" I asked curiously. I had seen Tonks and Moody Apparate when they collected Calista, mum and I from Greece, and I couldn't see why they shouldn't do that now.

"Safety reasons. It would look suspicious if a load of people suddenly appeared out of no where and then disappeared on the spot," Hermione explained. I frowned, but otherwise didn't press her further.

It was a long wait before anyone else woke up. Eventually, Mrs Weasley poked her head through our door and woke up Calista and Ginny, her voice piercing the still silence in the room. Once they had pulled themselves out of bed, the motherly woman turned to Hermione and me.

"Would you mind doing me a favour and waking up Harry and Ron? I'm quite busy at the moment…" She said, stress seeping into her voice. My lips curled into a smirk, and I nodded slowly. Mrs Weasley, mistaking my expression for something far kinder than what it was intended to be, smiled back, relieved, and then left us.

"Brilliant! Now I can get back at Harry!" I said to Hermione enthusiastically, my smirk now a broad grin at the prospect.

"Get back at him for _what_?" Hermione asked, frowning disapprovingly and folding her arms across her chest. I shrugged, having not yet thought that far ahead.

"I dunno, I'll make that up after I've woken him," I replied, throwing the door open and bounding down the stairs to the boys' landing, Hermione following closely behind me.

"What are you going to do?" She hissed in my ear, her usually prim and proper voice slowly becoming more worried.

"Watch and learn…" I winked at her, before turning to push their door open with a soft creak, revealing the two boys. Ron was snoring loudly, his feet sticking out the ends of the covers. Stifling a giggle, I turned from the sight to Harry.

His sleep looked less peaceful. His sheets were twisted around him, and a frown creased his forehead, which looked to be covered in a thin layer of sweat. I hesitated. He looked so _vulnerable_…

Vulnerable? The boy who constantly insists he can take care of himself? The boy who seems to have a comeback to everything? The boy who looks down at everyone, even his best friend, Ron Weasley?

It didn't take much to convince myself I was in the right. Harry was _not_ vulnerable, he was obnoxious. With this thought, my eyes narrowed at the black-haired boy.

Moving closer, I drew my wand from my jeans pocket and felt the now familiar warmth of magic spread through my fingers, something that seemed to happen every time I held my wand. It was definitely a feeling I liked.

As I had done in Ollivander's shop, I pointed the wand away from myself, although not really aiming at anything in particular, and gave my wrist a little flick.

I grinned as a deafening bang sounded throughout the room, ringing in my ears. A loud thud followed immediately after, and I grinned at Harry, who had been the cause of the thud. He had fallen from his bed, and was now sitting up, rubbing his head, his eyes watering with pain.

"Destiny!" Hermione said faintly from behind me.

"Yes, Hermione?" I answered sweetly, without turning to face her. Ron had also fallen and awoken in a disoriented state, but to my amusement, he had fallen asleep again.

I did turn to face Hermione, however, when she didn't answer me. She had a slightly tragic expression, and her mouth was opening and closing without any sound escaping. Finally, she simply shook her head.

I shrugged and turned back again. But, instead of seeing Harry on the floor, as I had expected, I saw him standing right in front of me, and I had to look up to see that he was glaring daggers.

"_What. Was. That_?" He growled softly, being sure to emphasise every syllable. I smirked.

"Your wake up call. It's time to get out of bed," I stated matter-of-factly, my hands on my hips. His eyes narrowed, and he snatched my wand from where I'd been holding it loosely with my hand.

"Hey!" I said indignantly as he threw it to Hermione to catch. I scowled up at him: Harry was only slightly taller than average height for his age, but I had always been pretty short, much to my annoyance.

"What was that for?" Harry snarled, pushing me back slightly with one hand. I scowled at him, my hands flickering automatically to push him away from me.

"Harry!" Hermione snapped, throwing herself between us just before I could shove him back.

"Yes?" He snapped, rounding on her with utter contempt in his eyes. Hermione appeared taken aback by this, but soon recovered, and the frown that was already creasing her forehead deepened.

"Don't you _dare_ start on me, I had no part in this!" She hissed vehemently, shoving a finger into his chest. Harry stared at her for a moment, and his eyes softened as he hung his head slightly.

"Sorry," he mumbled quietly, running a hand through his hair.

"That's quite alright," she muttered, her dark eyes still watching him carefully. Inhaling slowly, I sauntered back into the doorframe, fairly certain the argument was over and with only the thought of breakfast on my mind.

"Oh, no you don't, Des! You could be _expelled_ for that!" Hermione said upon noticing that I had disappeared into the darkness of the landing, and she pulled on my arm to stop me going any further. I shrugged, blowing a wisp of my hair out of my eyes.

"Well, technically, since school doesn't start 'till 11.00, I'm not a student of Hogwarts, so I haven't broken any rules, which means they can't expel me." I spoke slowly, almost with the tone of voice that I was trying to convince myself of my theory, not just the bushy-haired girl before me. Hermione frowned disapprovingly, shaking her head and muttering about how I was 'out of my mind' and that I 'wasn't going to last five minutes without a detention'.

I rolled my eyes, a small smile playing on my lips at her rather unnecessary worrying. Seeing that I wasn't at all bothered by this, Hermione glared and stomped past me. Having absolutely no desire to hang around Harry on my own when he was in a mood like this, I followed her quickly.

"What was that noise from the boy's room, you two?" Mrs Weasley asked suspiciously as we entered the kitchen, the now normal smell of fried bacon and toast in the morning wafting in the air.

"Erm… Ron… He snores _really_ loudly. I think you should take him to the doctor, Mrs Weasley," I supplied quickly, glancing at Hermione. She rolled her eyes at my rather pathetic excuse, and sat down.

"Doctor?" Mrs Weasley asked, and I was suddenly grateful that she was more preoccupied with what was to her an odd choice of words rather than with my pitiful lying.

"Yeah, a doctor's a muggle who helps sick people," I explained, smiling pleasantly at her and taking my usual seat beside Hermione

"Oh, like a Healer?" She asked, glancing at me as she scrubbed the dirty dishes that had been left in the sink from the night before.

"Erm… I suppose so," I answered, assuming that her comparison was accurate. The word '_Healer'_ certainly sounded similar to what was generally a doctor's job description.

The rest of the morning involved a lot of rushing about for everyone other than Hermione and I, who were both completely ready and sat in the kitchen watching as all those that would be getting on the train for Hogwarts searched for items they'd lost at the beginning of the summer. Finally, after Ginny found her Gryffindor tie hanging from one of the wooden beams on the ceiling and Fred and George had managed to squeeze all of their joke products into their trunks, we were ready to leave.

"Harry, you'll be coming with me and Tonks. The rest of you, do as your told whilst I'm gone," Mrs Weasley said, eyeing her twin sons as she stood by the front door with Harry and his trunk.

Soon after, Calista and I left with Remus Lupin, the wizard who had told me briefly about Hogwarts on my first evening at Grimmauld place. It was a twenty minute walk to King's Cross station, as Hermione had predicted, and was spent with an odd silence between the three of us. I hadn't expected Lupin to talk all that much, seeing as how we hardly knew each other, but the fact that Calista and I barely spoke a word to the other unsettled me.

I hadn't really been paying all that much attention to the platforms, so I had to mutter a quick apology to Lupin when he stopped dead in front of me and I bumped into him. He was looking up at the barrier between platforms nine and ten, and then glanced at us.

"Right. You need to walk through it," He spoke softly, but with the air that walking through a solid brick wall was the most normal thing in the world. My eyes widened as I stared at the barrier.

"You want us to walk through a brick wall?" I asked uncertainly. He nodded, a reassuring smile on his face. Sighing, I aimed my luggage trolley at the barrier, determination on my face.

"Don't do it like that, you look strange. Try to be casual," Lupin said. Frowning, and thinking that the reason I looked strange whilst trying to walk through a wall was simply due to the fact that it _was_ strange, I leant against the trolley and began to walk forwards, ignoring the pounding of my heart that grew louder as I drew nearer the wall. I was going to crash, I knew it…

I couldn't help but close my eyes as I drew nearer the wall, I was only inches from it. It was going to come any time now, and I'd be covered in bruises for weeks.

But it didn't come. I opened my eyes, looking around. I was on a different platform. A gleaming red steam engine was being boarded by the last few stragglers, and a sign indicated this was Platform 9 ¾.

Relief washed over me, and I moved out the way before Callie could run over me with her trolley when she came in after me - it would be a brilliant excuse for Harry to tease me for having managed to get through the barrier, but then break my leg for not getting out of the way soon enough.

Lupin followed behind us, and together we found Harry, Ron, Hermione, Mrs Weasley, Moody, Tonks and a shaggy black dog, who I assumed to be Sirius Black. Although I hadn't actually seen him change into a dog, Hermione had told me that there were some wizards who could morph into animals, and Sirius happened to be one of them.

"The others are all on the train. Ron and Hermione insisted on waiting for Destiny and Calista," Mrs Weasley said to Lupin as we approached. "Now, go on, all of you, before it leaves!" She added, shooing us onto the steps of the train still appearing thoroughly stressed even though we had made it in time. "I'll see you all at Christmas. Try not to get in trouble, Harry!" She called as the train began to move.

"Bye, mum!" Ron yelled, leaning out of an open window.

"Thanks Mrs Weasley!" The rest of us said together, poking our hands around Ron and waving at them on the platform as we began to pick up speed. Soon, we could no longer see any of the adults, and we pulled out of the window.

"Shall we go and find a compartment, then?" Harry asked as we all stood in a huddle together in the corridor between the compartments.

"Er- Actually, Harry, Ron and I need to go to the prefect's carriage… It shouldn't take long," Hermione added at the look on Harry's face. He nodded once, disappointment radiating off of him.

"Right… Okay, then… See you later…" He muttered as Ron and Hermione left. I sighed, looking into the nearby compartments, all of which were currently occupied. Harry glared at me as I brought my eyes back up to meet his.

"What have I done now?" I asked defensively. He rolled his eyes, shaking his head and led the way, poking his head round to see into the compartments. Finally, after having walked down most of the train, he stopped and slid open the door.

I followed him in and sat opposite. Calista, who I had almost forgotten was there, took the empty seat beside me. For a while, nobody spoke; I simply stared out the window, watching the green countryside flit by.

Calista sighed heavily, and was first to break the silence.

"I think I'm gonna go see if I can find Ginny… I'll see you two later… Maybe…" She said, standing up. I knew why she had added the maybe; she would not be retutning to sit with us at all, but hadn't wanted to seem impolite, as was Callie's way. I couldn't blame her for wanting to get away from us and the stony silence, though; the tension in the compartment could have been cut with a knife, and it wasn't fair to submit her to that.

So, as she closed the door behind her, Harry and I were left alone together, something I had been trying to avoid ever since my first night at Grimmauld Place.

"Your sister is nice," Harry said in a strained voice. I glanced at him briefly, and then back out the window again. Of course she was nice; she was also beautiful, and I would bet that that was the only reason he had brought her up as a topic of conversation.

"Yes, she is," I muttered quietly. He inhaled deeply, apparently trying to force a conversation even if it was the death of him.

"She's different to you," he stated, a slight edge of curiosity to his voice. I laughed humourlessly.

"You don't think I know that?" I looked at him again, my eyes boring into his, trying to stare him out. Eventually, he gave up, and turned away from me.

We didn't speak again. After an hour or so, Hermione and Ron returned, and Ron lightened the mood considerably by mouthing comments behind Hermione's back as she talked animatedly about their new prefect duties.

Finally, after what felt like years, the train stopped, and we were able to get off. I followed Harry, Ron and Hermione off the train and through the bitter darkness along with the other students to the carriages, which were not being pulled by anything. Or, as far as I could see.

"What is that?" Harry said suddenly, pointing at the empty space in front of the carriage.

"What's what?" Ron asked, a frown in his voice as he followed Harry's gaze.

"_There_- pulling the carriage!" Ron turned to Harry, a look on his face that clearly stated he thought Harry was loosing it a little.

"There's nothing there, Harry," he said seriously. Harry looked at him doubtfully, but didn't say another word as we all stepped inside our carriage.

"Destiny, look out the window," Hermione said softly, smiling. I did as she said, and my jaw dropped as I caught my first glimpse of Hogwarts.

It was a magnificent castle that put any others I'd seen before to shame. Turrets emerged from the stone, the many little windows glowing a bright yellow, standing out against the black night sky. Somehow, it gave the castle an intricacy that just altogether made it beautiful, and the nerves I had been feeling before were now gone, leaving behind a feeling of sheer awe.

"It's amazing…" I whispered. I didn't - _couldn't_ - tear my eyes from the view until I had absolutely no choice but to get out of the carriage to walk into the stunning castle that would be my home for the next year.

Inside, I was greeted with a stern looking witch in emerald green robes. Her hair had been pulled back into a tight bun, over which a pointed hat to match her robes sat, and her eyes held a natural fierceness that I was sure could keep any class of students quiet.

"Ah, Miss Dranias? You are to be sorted with your sister, just before the first years. Please, follow me," she said, her thin lips forming a smile. She didn't seem like one of those teachers that was strict to the point of just being mean, but she had an oddly fair look about her, like she would listen to what you had to say. I smiled at Hermione and Ron, who both gave reassuring nods.

Breathing deeply, I followed the witch into another chamber, filled with nervous looking first-years. As soon as she made her way to front of the group and began to speak, the first-years fell silent.

"I am Professor McGonagall, and I am both head of Gryffindor house and teacher of Transfiguration. Now, when we enter the Great Hall, I am going to put the Sorting Hat on your head, and it will sort you each into your houses. They are Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff and Slytherin…" I began to tune out, having heard most of this from Hermione already over the summer. So, I waited patiently, until finally she allowed us to leave the cramped chamber and enter the Great Hall.

There were five tables in total; the Gryffindor table on the far right, where I could see everyone I knew, the Ravenclaw table next to them, then the Hufflepuff table, and lastly the Slytherin table. The fifth table was at the front of the hall, where all the teachers were sat, looking across the hall at the new students as we filed inside.

In front of the teachers and in plain view of all the students was a stool with a frayed pointed hat sat on it. Then, when we were all stood quite still, a rip near the brim of the hat opened, and the hat broke into a long song. I wasn't paying any attention to its singing, however, and instead let my eyes trail over some of the students and teachers, wondering what they taught.

Once it had finished, everyone in the hall broke into applause, which I copied slightly too late as I had been staring fixedly on a rather odd looking woman with a frizzy mane of light brown hair and huge glasses that made her appear rather bug-like.

Professor McGonagall stepped forward again and began to speak. This time, however, I couldn't tune her out, as she was talking specifically about Calista and myself. "We have two new students in their fifth and sixth years, and I would ask everyone to welcome them to our school. I will sort them first, and then we shall begin with our new first years."

I could suddenly feel every pair of eyes in the hall land on Calista and me, burning into my skin. Trying very hard to ignore them, I watched Professor McGonagall roll out a long piece of parchment.

"Dranias, Calista," she called. Callie stepped up hesitantly to the stool and sat down, her hands shaking as she clutched the edges of it. There was a moment of silence, and then-

"RAVENCLAW!" The hat boomed, resulting in everyone at the Ravenclaw table cheering loudly as Calista approached them after having taken the hat off, a blush colouring her cheeks. I couldn't help but notice that a few of the guys had even wolf whistled at her.

"Dranias, Destiny." The room was silent again as I made my way to the front to sit on the stool, just as my sister had done moments before. I just had to tell myself not to panic - everything would be absolutely fine.

I felt the hat being placed on my head, and I bit my lip against the nerves that were threatening to spill out as I waited to be sorted. Then, a low voice that I was certain only I could hear whispered in my ear.

"Destiny… My, aren't you different to your sister? No, you are most certainly not a Ravenclaw, nor are you a Hufflepuff… You could possibly make Slytherin; sly, a great aptitude for breaking the rules… Yes, Slytherin would suit you well…" I flinched: I didn't want to be a Slytherin. My friends were in Gryffindor…

"Gryffindor? I see… Yes, there are definitely qualities of a Gryffindor. Brave, loyal to those you are close to…" I began to internally beg to the hat: _Please pick Gryffindor, please_.

"In that case, I think… GRYFFINDOR!" The last word was spoken aloud, and I couldn't help the broad grin that spread across my face as I took the hat off and almost skipped over to the Gryffindor table, slipping between Hermione and Ron, who had been clapping the loudest.

"Well, that's a relief…" I said happily, and Hermione laughed. I didn't pay much attention to the first year sorting, and I ate my food without having any idea what it was, and for some reason, I hadn't been the least bit surprised when it appeared out of nowhere. I was beginning to think nothing would surprise me here.

Hermione and Ron had shown me to the Gryffindor common room as they did with the first years, and when I ascended the staircase to the Girls' dormitories with Hermione, I could definitely feel the tiring effects of the day's events on me.

It was unsurprising then, that when I lay in my new four-poster bed in the dormitory I now shared with Hermione and two other girls I had just met, I'd fallen asleep the moment my head had hit the pillow.

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><p><strong>Hope you enjoyed it! Reviews? :D<strong>

_**Meg x**_


	6. First Day

**I'm so so so sorry for the lack of updates, it's my last year of High School so I've been pretty busy with exams and coursework. Since it's the Christmas holidays though, I decided I should update, and I'm going to try so much harder to keep updating from now on!**

**Anyway, thank you to those that reviewed the last chapters, I really do appreciate it (even if it takes me ages to reply - sorry again)!**

**Disclaimer: **Everything belongs to the exceptionally talented JK Rowling, apart from Destiny, her family, and any plot changes :)

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><p><strong>Chapter Six: First Day<strong>

"Destiny, _get up_!" Hermione yelled for the fourth time that morning, having ripped the curtains that surrounded my bed open and thrown a pillow at my head.

"Go away, Hermione," I mumbled into the duvet I'd pulled over my face, muffling my voice as I rolled onto my side. I was _not_ a morning person, despite having been getting up relatively early over the course of the summer. I'd just managed my first night of an entirely dreamless sleep, and I did not want school, even if it was magic school, to spoil it.

"Are you going to make me do this again?" She whispered softly, her tone far too calm to be considered safe. I opened one eye, suspicion getting the better of me.

"Do _what_ again?" I asked cautiously, pulling my knees up to my chest to rest in the fetal position as I waited for what was to come; I could just imagine her smile of triumph spreading across her features.

"_This_," and, for the second time since we had met, Hermione pulled away the covers that had been protecting me from the chill of the castle air, and with them, I fell off the bed.

"Ow!" I grumbled, narrowing my eyes at the bushy-haired girl before me as I slowly stood up, rubbing my elbow where it had whacked the corner of the bed.

"Now you know how Harry felt. Anyway, you need to hurry up and get ready, we're leaving for classes in fifteen minutes!" I clucked my tongue, shrugging off the impatient tone in her voice as I turned for the bathroom the girls of the dormitory shared.

"That won't be a problem, Hermione, as long as I have time for breakfast," I called to her from the small tiled room, having shut the door behind me.

"You won't!" She yelled back, and I grinned at her response as I checked myself over in the large mirror placed above the sink.

I had originally planned on making myself look nice for my first day, possibly applying a little makeup, something I very rarely did for school back in Greece, but I knew now I'd overslept I wouldn't have enough time. I sighed, raking a brush through my tangled hair, the drowsiness still making my eyes droop.

However, after brushing my teeth, and hearing no complaints from Hermione in the dormitory of how long I was taking, I decided on doing my makeup anyway. But, typically, nothing I did anymore seemed to go undisturbed, and Hermione threw the door open, standing with her hands folded across her chest.

"Have you ever heard of knocking?" I asked angrily, trying desperately to wipe clean the mascara I had just knocked onto my eyelid upon her unexpected entrance.

"_Why_ are you bothering with makeup? We don't have time! You're going to make us late!" She said in a huff, her eyes wide and incredulous at my apparent disinterest in what she was saying as I continued to finish combing through my lashes with the mascara wand.

"_Us_? Who's us?" I asked, slipping the wand back into its tube and turning to face her, frowning.

"Harry and Ron! They're downstairs waiting!" I laughed lightly, turning back to the mirror to fix the parting of my hair so my fringe fell neatly across my face.

"What's so funny about that?"

"Nothing, Hermione, it just seems silly of you to wait for me when I probably _will_ be late." I could see the reflection of Hermione's scowl in the mirror, and I had to suppress a grin as I forced myself to remain straight-faced.

"Relax, Hermione. Just go without me. I'll be fine."

"No, you won't! If I go without you, you won't know where your first class is! You don't even have your timetable yet!" She said, her voice rising an octave as the panic began to seep into her voice.

"Then I won't be going to any lessons today, will I?" I said, shrugging and stepping past her into the dormitory to rummage through my trunk for my new school robes. Realising I had changed into them on the train yesterday and had thrown them on the floor when I had changed again here, I fell to my knees to reach under the bed, pulling out my now crinkled robes.

"You are _not_ skipping! And you won't have to worry about not having your timetable, I picked it up for you," she mumbled, pulling out a piece of parchment from her robes and handing it to me.

"Thanks. And Hermione, just chill. I'll be fine. I promise I won't skip," I said calmly, smiling. She stared at me for a moment, and giving a heavy sigh, she turned from me and left the dormitory, closing the door behind her.

Getting rid of Hermione left me with plenty of time to get ready, since I no longer had her breathing down my neck, so I changed into my robes slowly, adjusting my socks and tie so it didn't strangle me anymore.

I'd made myself late, as I knew I would, and seeing no point in turning up halfway through a lesson, I lay back on my bed, staring at the ceiling and searching for patterns in the wooden panels until they all looked the same.

I jolted up, rubbing the sleep out of my eyes before checking the clock on my bedside table: 1:13pm. I groaned, swinging my legs over the side of my bed and throwing my bag over my shoulder. I'd managed to miss almost all of my lessons and lunch.

I left the dormitory in a hurry, pulling the timetable Hermione had given to me from my pocket to check for what lesson I should be in, scanning through Monday's classes.

**Monday**

**History of Magic - Professor Binns, classroom 4**

**Potions - Professor Snape, dungeon 5**

**Potions - Professor Snape, dungeon 5**

**Free period**

**Defence Against the Dark Arts - Professor Umbridge, classroom 13**

**Defence Against the Dark Arts - Professor Umbridge, classroom 13**

I had missed three lessons and a free period, so I would need to be in Defence Against the Dark Arts. I had absolutely no idea where classroom 13 was, so after exiting the portrait hole, I ran blindly down the corridor, eventually making it onto a set of stairs.

Gasping for air and clutching the stitch on my side, I looked around, my eyes widening as I realised I had no idea where I was. There wasn't just one set of stairs, there were at least thirty, and they were all moving! Desperate for help, I turned to one of the many paintings that decorated the walls.

"Excuse me? Where's classroom 13?" I asked a particularly friendly-looking pope who had been reading a thick book by candlelight.

"Defence Against the Dark Arts? That's four flights of stairs away. Would you like me to show you?" He said, looing up from his book and moving forwards in his frame.

"Erm, yeah, please!" He smiled and disappeared from the frame, and reappeared in another painting. Following him, I wished he would move faster, or I would miss the whole day. The panic that had been swelling in my chest seemed ready to burst at the thought.

The pop stopped suddenly outside a door at the bottom of one fo the many sets of stairs we'd descended. "I'm afraid I can't go through there, there aren't any paintings. Just walk straight down and enter the first door on your left," he said, smiling kindly at me and gesturing at the door. Wasting not time, I pushed the door open and took off down the hall, calling a quick thanks back to him.

I skidded to a stop outside the door indicated by the pope, and breathing deeply, I knocked on it, quickly patting my hair back into its original position and hoping I didn't look nearly as bad as I felt.

"Come in," responded a falsely sweet voice. Slowly, I pushed the door open and entered, inhaling sharply as every head in the classroom turned to stare at me. I pointedly avoided Hermione's gaze as I walked forwards, taking care to at least look as if I didn't care about the looks I was receiving.

"Erm, sorry I'm late, Professor…" I mumbled, sure my face was tomato-red.

"And you are?" The woman, who was dressed from head to toe in pink, said, looking over me with a tight-lipped smile.

"Destiny Dranias."

"Ah yes, you are on my register…" She said, glancing at what I assumed was my name on a piece of parchment on her desk. "Well, I am Professor Umbridge, Miss Dranias. You may take a seat, and I'm afraid that you shall be joining Mr Potter for detention due to your lateness," she continued, the smile still stretching across her face.

"Why's he got detention?" I asked without thinking, mentally wincing as I realised my mistake. Her smile stayed in place, but gave a slight twitch at the edge.

"Mr Potter refuses to believe the truth, and continues to tell lies," she answered, as if she'd repeated herself many times. I said nothing, forcing myself to remain silent, so she nodded to the only remaining seat in the classroom, next to Harry.

"As I was saying before we were interrupted, the Ministry of Magic guarantees that you are not in danger from any Dark wizard. If anyone tells you otherwise, they are lying, and I would like you to tell me. You can trust me. And now, you will kindly continue your reading. Page five, 'Basics for Beginners'." I frowned, suddenly certain I knew what Harry had apparently been lying about to receive a detention.

I hadn't glanced at the book yet, but was still staring at the woman in pink before me. Feeling something brush against my arm, I looked up; Harry had risen from his seat, and was glaring at Professor Umbridge, his hands trembling.

"Harry, no!" Hermione whispered, tugging on the sleeve of his robes, and I was pleased to see him jerk his hand away from her. I knew full well he'd end up with another form of punishment, but after getting into trouble myself, I felt like I needed to see him with another detention.

"So Cedric Diggory dropped dead of his own accord, did he?" Harry asked, his voice shaking with the anger that permeated it.

And suddenly my previous optimism about Harry being told off diminished, and I stared wide-eyed at him. Cedric was the same name as the one Ron had mentioned once at Grimmauld Place, the same name of the person Harry had had nightmares about…

"Cedric Diggory's death was a tragic accident," Umbridge replied, the sweetness in her disappearing, only to be replaced by a bitter coldness.

"It was murder. Voldemort killed him and you know it," Harry said, his voice clear and unmistakeable. I raised my eyebrows, wondering briefly if I was the only person present who had no idea what was going on.

"Come here, Mr Potter," Umbridge whispered, just loudly enough for everyone to hear. He kicked his chair aside and strode past me to her desk, where she wrote a note on bright pink parchment and handed it to him.

"Take this to Professor McGonagall, dear," she said, the false sweetness returning slowly to her voice. He took it and left, staring determinedly ahead and avoiding eye contact with anyone.

As the door slammed shut behind him, I had a sudden urge to laugh. Obviously no one else did, because the atmosphere in the room could have been cut with a knife, but I'd had no idea Harry was ever like that in class. Sure, he had seemed cocky and arrogant at Grimmauld Place, but I never knew him to be such a… _rebel_. I let out an involuntary giggle at the thought.

"Is there something funny, Miss Dranias?" Umbridge said across the room, and with the knowledge that I already had one detention and another wouldn't matter very much, I smirked at her, allowing myself a retort.

"Oh, no, Professor. You see, I often find myself laughing at pointless things. Or boredom. Your lessons could be either." There was a collective gasp throughout the room, and as I glanced around me, I received a few appreciative grins from some of my classmates, including Ron.

I turned to look at Umbridge again, the smirk still curving my lips. She was glaring furiously at me, her wand clutched between both her hands, as if she'd snap it in half if another of her students made another outburst against her.

"Miss Dranias, come to the front." I did so, leaning a hand on her desk when I reached her.

"Yes?" I said, flashing her a copy of her own false smile.

"Take this to your head of house, please, and also take your bag." she said, handing me a note that was sealed in a pink envelope, much like the one Harry had been given.

"Oh, I would, but I don't know where my head of house will be," I said, pushing the note back to her across her desk.

"What is it, Miss Granger?" Umbridge snapped. I turned to see Hermione slowly lowering her hand as she looked tentatively at the teacher.

"Please, Professor, Destiny is new to the school, and she won't know where Professor McGonagall's office is…"

Umbridge raised her thin eyebrows as she responded. "Well then, Miss Granger, I don't suppose you would mind taking Miss Dranias to Professor McGonagall's office, would you?" Hermione shook her head, faking a smile, and Umbridge shoved the note back at me, which I reluctantly took.

"Be sure to come back as soon as you have taken her, Miss Granger," Umbridge called behind us as we left together, the pink note now clutched in my hand.

"Hermione, I-" I began as we walking through the corridor, but I was soon cut off.

"Don't bother."

"Look, Hermione, I'm sorry. I know you wanted to show me to my lessons and everything today, but you can do that tomorrow. It's probably not great that I missed most of my first day, but I got a detention for it anyway, didn't I?" She glanced at me, her eyes softening a little.

"I just thought _you_ would have been more worried about having a good first day, but you don't seem that bothered…" I smiled, shaking my head.

"Something was bound to go wrong anyway, knowing me. It's probably best that I missed it." She gave a small smile, rolling her eyes.

"I suppose so. Anyway, we're here. Good luck with her, and please, _try_ not to get into any more trouble."

"I'll try. I'll see you later, then," I said, grinning. She nodded and hurried off in the direction we had just come. Wen she'd disappeared, I faced the door, knocking twice on it.

"Come in," replied a stern voice, and when I entered the room, I saw Professor McGonagall sitting behind her desk, Harry sat right in front of it.

"Does Professor Umbridge want Potter back?" She asked, an edge of surprise to her voice. I inhaled deeply and shook my head.

"Actually, Professor, she sent me to give this to you…" I muttered, handing the pink envelope over to her. She took it opened the seal, her eyes scanning the note before she looked at me again.

"Sit down, Dranias," she said coldly, pointing to the empty chair next to Harry. I did as she'd said, biting my lip as I waited for her to continue.

"This note informs me that you are to accompany Potter to each detention for a week, each at five o'clock," she said, sighing heavily and looking over her glasses at me. "I have just been talking to Mr Potter about Professor Umbridge, Dranias, and I am going to repeat myself about one thing." I winced, expecting her to begin yelling or something, as I was sure she would.

"Do not loose your temper with her. Although it seems you have received a detention for sheer cheek, I can't say I'd be surprised if you returned here for disagreeing with her 'Ministry approved' views. You seem a little more blunt than most, but this will not play in your favour with Dolores Umbridge." I frowned; of all the things I had expected, that had not been one of them.

"Now, I want both of you to return to the common room," she said, pointing to her door and looking impatiently at us as she waited for us to leave.

Harry and I walked in silence, staring at the stone floor, and it was only broken when he muttered the password for the common room.

"So…" I mumbled awkwardly when we were both sat in one of the sofas in front of the crackling fire.

"Why were you sent to McGonagall's office? You didn't start going on about Voldemort, too, did you?" Harry asked suddenly, his eyebrows raised, and with an almost… _hopeful_ glint in his green eyes. When I shook my head, however, the hope disappeared.

"No. I started laughing after you left, and I told her that her lessons were pointless and boring," I mumbled, shrugging non-chalantly as if it hadn't landed me a week's worth of detentions.

"Well… Thanks," he said quietly, dropping his head to look at the floor again so I couldn't read whatever emotion it was playing in his eyes.

I raised my eyebrows in surprise, blinking several times, unsure I had heard correctly. _Harry Potter _had just thanked me. Bloody hell.

"Erm… Yeah… Sure," I said in way of response, only realising after I'd spoken that I hadn't replied in what I'd hoped was a normal way. Mentally slapping myself, I watched as he chuckled lightly before standing up.

"I'm going up to the dormitory. Er… See you later, I guess…" I nodded once, forcing myself to smile at him as he stepped past me.

Almost immediately after he'd left, I decided to go up to my dormitory to wait for Hermione, rather than sitting on my own for another hour or so.

I sat back on my bed, looking out the window beside my bed for the first time since I'd gotten to Hogwarts at the castle grounds. I had to admit, it was beautiful out there; the grass was lush and green, and the lake glistened in the sun, which was unusually bright for September.

I sighed dejectedly as I looked away from the window, knowing my first day hadn't gone nearly as well as neither Hermione or I had wanted it to. All I could do was hope that Callie, who I hadn't yet seen once, had had a better day.

I snorted, shaking my head. Of course Callie had a good day - she'd probably found herself an entirely new group of friends and had gotten brilliant feedback from every one of her teachers, even though she didn't know an ounce of magic. That'd be right, and if I saw her at dinner later, she'd be surrounded by a babbling bunch of girls, and maybe even a few guys staring (or more like _drooling_) at her. Bloody typical.

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><p><strong>Hope you liked it, and please review! :)<strong>

_**Meg x**_


	7. Detention

**I'm back at school now, and unfortunately have quite a few English exams coming up, but I'm going to try my utmost to keep updating. This one's also quite a bit shorter than my others, so sorry about that =/**

**Disclaimer: **Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling, I only own Destiny and her family.

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><p><strong>Chapter Seven: Detention<strong>

"Des? Everyone's going down for dinner," Hermione said, standing in the doorway of the dormitory. I'd been lying on my bed ever since I'd left the common room after my conversation with Harry, staring at the hangings above me.

"'Kay, I'm coming," I answered, sitting up and running my fingers through my hair. After pulling open the curtains that surrounded my bed and gave me what little privacy you could gain whilst sharing a room with three other girls, I realised Hermione had already left, so shoving on the black school shoes I'd worn earlier, I followed after her.

Having caught up with the trio, we entered the Great Hall together, and suddenly every pair of eyes in the room turned in our direction, the light chatter that had been filling the room drawing to a halt. When the abrupt attention slowly moved from the three of us, low mutterings began, and I could distinctly hear the sound of Harry's name being used in more than one of the conversations that we passed on our way to the Gryffindor table.

"What's their problem?" I asked Hermione as we each slipped into empty seats, glaring at one particular second year sat at the next table who didn't seem capable of pulling her eyes away from Harry's face. Hermione glanced at Harry, who had spotted the same girl and was furiously burning holes in the back of her head after she'd finally turned away, before answering me.

"They're talking about Harry's outburst in Defence Against the Dark Arts. They all think he's insane because he started yelling about Cedric Diggory and You-Know-Who." I raised my eyebrows, already beginning to feel thoroughly perplexed.

"I still don't understand, Hermione. Who's Cedric Diggory, and what has Harry got to do with him?" Hermione sighed and shot a look at Harry, and I couldn't help noticing that when he'd sat down, everyone nearby had immediately inched away from him, as if he'd developed a bad smell.

"Harry…" Hermione said, an almost pleading tone in her voice. He looked at her, a frown creasing his forehead.

"What?"

"You've got to tell Destiny…" His frown deepened, and for a moment, I didn't think he would even bother to acknowledge what Hermione was saying. Then, after glancing at his two best friends, his attention fell on me.

"What is it you don't understand?" He asked, a harsh edge to his voice that probably shouldn't have been there if he was truly willing to let me in on what he and everyone else in the school seemed to know.

"Everything. Who's Cedric? I mean, I know you mentioned him back at Headquarters, but I still don't really know who he is." Harry winced slightly, taking away from the hard look in his eyes as they dropped to gaze at his empty plate.

"Cedric Diggory was a seventh year who died last year." The pain in Harry's voice was evident, but I'd already known Cedric had died - he'd already said so. I needed to know _how_ he'd died, and why.

"What happened to him?" I asked softly, and even though I didn't like Harry, I knew this must have been a sensitive topic for him, for whatever reason, by the way he'd reacted to my questions and to Umbridge in class. He sighed, giving Hermione a small smile as she served him some of the pie in front of us, but still avoiding eye contact with me.

"Voldemort killed him."

"Harry, you have to explain everything. She needs to know it _all_," Hermione cut in, her voice gentle as she looked at him. He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, and with eyes held lightly shut, he began to tell the whole story, and for once, he didn't seem to leave anything out.

"Last year, a competition was held here called the Triwizard tournament, and three students from different schools were meant to compete. Cedric was the one chosen for Hogwarts, but someone had made it so I'd be chosen, too. There were tasks that we had to do, and the last one was to be the first to find the cup at the centre of a maze. Cedric and I got to it together, and when we both touched it, we were transported to a graveyard - the cup had been a portkey." Harry paused for a moment here, opening his eyes and glancing at me briefly, as if unsure how to go on.

"In the graveyard," he continued slowly, clutching his fork in his right hand. "A man called Peter Pettigrew came, and he killed Cedric. Then he took some of my blood, and he used it to bring Voldemort back. I duelled him, and when I had the chance, I grabbed Cedric's body and the portkey back to Hogwarts. It turned out there had been one of Voldemort's followers inside the castle the whole time that had been making sure I'd do well in the tournament, so I'd be in the graveyard when I was supposed to be."

Silence followed Harry's explanation, and for once, I was speechless. I'd previously assumed Cedric and Harry had been friends of some sort, but I'd never thought that Harry'd had to witness his death, or that he'd had to fight off the most powerful dark wizard to have ever left, and that had only been a couple months prior to my meeting him. I couldn't pretend that I suddenly liked Harry (and trust me, I didn't), but I certainly felt more sympathy towards him, and there was still a slightly nagging feeling at the back of my mind that told me there was even more I didn't know about the dark haired boy sat opposite me.

"I-I'm sorry…" I stuttered, struggling to find my voice. He shrugged, and went back to his food, as if he told people stories of life-threatening situations he'd been in all the time. "But… What was that all about in Umbridge's class, then?" I asked, still feeling slightly out of the loop as to why a teacher found it necessary to tell everyone that Harry was lying. Hermione sighed when Harry didn't answer and turned to face me.

"Umbridge works for the Ministry of Magic, who are telling everyone Harry's lying about You-Know-Who because they're scared of what it'll mean. Harry got in trouble for standing up for himself." I frowned and stared down at my dinner, which suddenly didn't seem so appetizing anymore.

I'd finished what I could of my dinner, and had been debating with myself for a little while about speaking to Callie, and had just about decided I would go to the Ravenclaw table to see if I could find her when Hermione interrupted my chain of thoughts.

"Oh-Harry?" she said suddenly, putting down the book she'd been reading at the table whilst waiting for the two boys to finish their meals.

"Mm?" He mumbled absent-mindedly, pushing his fork around his plate.

"It's nearly five o'clock. You two need to go to your detention." I groaned, wondering how on Earth I could have forgotten about it when I'd received the detention on that same day.

"We'll meet you in the common room," Ron said. I nodded to him, standing up and brushing a crease out of my robes as I waited for Harry to pick up his bag. Once he was ready, we left the Hall together, and this time I made sure to trail slightly behind him to try and pay more attention to where we were actually going.

When we'd arrived at the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom, he lead me to a door just behind Umbridge's desk, knocking twice on it before we waited in silence for her to respond.

"Come in!" She called, and Harry pushed the door open to reveal Umbridge sat behind a desk decorated with a pale pink tablecloth. Her walls were painted a darker shade of the same sickly pink, and the pictures of kittens that lined them purred in what was probably supposed to be a cute way before sneezing into a bed of flowers. I wrinkled my nose in distaste at them - I was much more of a dog person.

"Ah, Mr Potter, Miss Dranias, I'd like you both to sit down." She gestured towards two tables placed in front of her desk with a quill and parchment placed on them. I sat down and watched her as she stood from her seat and her thin lips stretched into a condescending smile.

"Miss Dranias, I would like you to write '_I must respect my superiors_,' and Mr Potter, I want you to write '_I must not tell lies.' _You may begin." I sighed, although was silently grateful that it was only lines and nothing too difficult - I'd begun to worry wizards and witches had different punishments to muggles in schools. Placing the tip of the quill against the parchment, I began to scrawl the first sentence.

_I must respect my superiors._

In unison, a soft gasp left both mine and Harry's lips as a searing pain shot across my right hand. Looking down, I saw the red words on the parchment etch their way into my skin, and then it healed over almost immediately.

My eyes widened and I glanced quickly at Harry. He was staring at Umbridge, who had been watching us both, her mouth stretched into a horrible smile.

"Yes?" She said, her expression and voice exactly as it had been before, as if forcing teenagers to write in their own blood was an entirely normal punishment.

"Nothing," Harry replied quietly, and Umbridge's smile broadened. I quickly realised that, judging by Harry's shock, this was _not_ a normal punishment, and that Umbridge was not just a woman clad in more than enough pink; she was sick, twisted, and not quite there in the head.

The room fell back into silence, and I suppressed a sigh as I gritted my teeth and forced myself to write the next line, only to have the words reappear on the back of my hand and then for the skin to heal over again. This was the continual pattern, and by the time Umbridge had finally told us to put our quills down and leave, my hand was throbbing, and I noticed vaguely as I swung my bag over my shoulder that my skin had not quite healed over properly on that last line.

"Does it still hurt?" Harry asked softly as we began walking through the corridor outside of the classroom. I glanced at him, taking in the slightly pained expression he wore across his face, before I answered.

"A bit," I admitted, holding the back of my hand up so he could see. A single drop of blood rolled over my skin, dropping onto the floor as we walked. He didn't say anything, so I let my hand drop back to my side, a flush colouring my cheeks at my brief display of vulnerability.

"I don't think we should tell Ron or Hermione. Not yet, anyway," He said suddenly, moving unexpectedly to touch my arm and gain my attention.

"Why?" I asked curiously, instinctively pulling away from the hand that had touched the sleeve of my robes.

"They'll want us to tell someone about it, and I'm not giving into Umbridge. It'd be exactly what she wants." A hard look passed over his features, and as I bit my lip, I could appreciate the stubborness that seemed be pushing him through whatever it was Umbridge was trying to do to him.

I nodded slowly, and although I didn't think Hermione or Ron would tell anyone without either of our permission to do so, I could perfectly understand not wanting to give in to Umbridge. She seemed exactly the type of person to feed off the knowledge that she was getting to someone, and I wasn't one to give out satisfaction when it wasn't deserved.

When we arrived at the common room, it was completely empty, and far too quiet. Harry and I watched each other for a moment, unsure of what exactly it was we were meant to say to the other. Deciding against an awkward exchange of words, a tight, slightly forced smile appeared on his face, which I returned, and then quickly turned away from him to climb the stairs of the dormitory. Falling onto my bed after changing, I closed my eyes, desperately hoping I would wake up on time the following morning.

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><p><strong>Reviews? :D<strong>

_**Meg x**_


	8. The Real First Day

**Author's Note: I can't believe it's been so long since I last updated. I'm so so sorry! It was my last year of High School, and coursework and exams and lots of other stress just got in the way. It's no excuse really, but writing this made me realise just how much I've missed it. Hopefully I'll be better at juggling work and writing from now on!**

**Anyway, I have to say I'm a bit worried about this chapter. I completely re-wrote some parts from the original, and then left others almost exactly as they were before. It's been quite hard going back to writing when I haven't done it in so long, so please, feel free to leave any constructive criticism! It'll be much appreciated :D Also, I want to say thank you to those that reviewed. Just another reason why I wanted to come back here again :)**

**Disclaimer: **And unfortunately I still don't own Harry Potter. I just enjoy meddling in her amazing world :)

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><p><strong>Chapter Eight: The <em>Real<em> First Day**

Tuesday was my first real day at Hogwarts, and it proved far from easy.

Transifguration was first, and whilst everyone else was busied with turning their turtles into kettles (apparently something they'd done before and were only refreshing their memories on) I sat at my desk next to Hermione, copying down the various notes on safety aspects out of a textbook, before I could then go on to reading about the actual methods of Transfiguration.

"Hermione, can you please keep your turtle on a leash? He's stepping on my paper!" I groaned, attempting to guide the reptile back to his owner by poking it with my wand.

"Don't do that, you could hurt him! And you should have finished those notes by now anyway." I scowled, gritting my teeth and forcing my fingers around the quill to once again continue writing, all the while cursing the damn witch or wizard who came up with these spells with every foul word I could think think of.

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><p>During the time that Harry, Ron and Hermione were in the subjects they'd chosen in their third year, I was free to waste away my free periods as I pleased. Of course, I probably should have been sitting in the common room or dormitory catching up on previous years work as any <em>dedicated<em> student would, but after an hour in Tranfiguration of taking down more information than I was sure I'd ever remember, I decided now was the perfect opportunity to get to know the castle a little better.

So, that was what I was doing - wandering through the many corridors, starting in one place and seeing if I could find my way back to it without getting too lost.

After walking past the same suit of armour for the third time running, a high voice with a familiar light Greek accent running through it came from the small staircase to my left. Sighing with relief at the prospect of finding someone to help me, I grinned as my sister and a pretty girl with silky black hair appeared at the foot of the stairs, giggling and chatting animatedly.

"Callie!" Her head raised, snapping so her eyes met mine. Something tugged at her lips, although I wasn't sure whether it was a smile or a frown.

"Destiny… Shouldn't you be with the other Gryffindors?" I shrugged, stepping forward to let a second year boy pass behind me, not catching the edge to her words.

"Thought I'd be an explorer for an hour, before it's time for next lesson." One of her perfectly arched eyebrows rose, and the girl beside her pursed her lips in a manner that reminded me mildly of a fish.

"You do realise it's next lesson _now_, don't you?" The girl said, and I frowned - had I really been gone an hour already?

"Er… No, I didn't know that." Calista rolled her eyes, exchanging a look with her friend.

"Well, Cho and I are going to Charms. Perhaps you should head back too." It wasn't a question, but I nodded anyway, feeling slightly stunned by this new side of my sister. Since when had she gotten so… _cold_?

She linked arms with the girl - Cho - and began to walk off before stopping again, Callie tugging on Cho's wrist.

"Des?" She said, turning slowly to look at me again, the frown gone from her face.

"Yeah?" She paused, her eyes trained on mine.

"Don't get another detention. If you start being the little rebel child of the family, mum'll never cope. Don't mess this up." I smiled weakly, nodding once as the corners of her lips turned up slightly in response. Then, flicking her smooth curls over her shoulder, she strutted off in the direction of the Charms classroom, Cho hurrying to catch up with her whilst throwing a curious glance at me.

And, as I watched her leave, I could feel the sinking in my stomach that told me, not only was she right about mum, but that something had changed inside my sister with my father's death. And I wasn't sure I was going to like it.

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><p>I made it to Herbology in barely enough time, the trio of friends already stood together around one of the tables. I joined them, wiping a bead of sweat from my forehead, having just ran from whatever floor I'd been on down every set of stairs I could until I eventually found the main doors that would lead me to the grounds.<p>

"Where have you been?" Hermione asked in a hushed voice, glancing furtively at Professor Sprout to make sure she wouldn't be spotted talking.

"Went for a wander. Saw my sister."

"Did you get lost?" Harry asked, no trace of a sour edge to his tone (for once).

"Yes."

"Good." I glared at him, throwing a handful of dirt at his overalls, and wincing as Sprout's voice called out across the room.

"Miss Dranias! That will be five points from Gyffindor. Lucky it's your first lesson with me, or I'd have taken more for such immature behaviour."

I sighed, Harry smirking across the table. "Yes, Professor."

After the rest of the Herbology lesson, which I'd spent avoiding Sprout's gaze that seemed to constantly flicker in my general direction, we had Defence Against the Dark Arts with the Umbridge woman, of whom I was happy to note did not give me (or Harry, but I couldn't care less about him) a detention. All we had to do was copy from a book, much like I had done in Transfiguration, although in this class everyone had to do it whilst Umbridge paced between the desks, making sure no one was talking or had their wands out.

As we made our way to the final lesson of the day - Potions - it became apparent that Defence Against the Dark Arts was never normally taught like that.

"We're not _learning_ anything!" Hermione muttered angrily, the boys nodding in agreement, frowns creasing their foreheads. Not having experienced a proper lesson in the subject, I couldn't offer her any suggestions, so I leant against the wall of the dank dungeon corridor as we waited with the rest of the students for the Potions teacher to arrive.

"What's Potter doing here? Shouldn't he be on a date with a Dementor around now?" A boy's voice drawled from the front of the group. I swivelled around and locked eyes with a pale-faced boy with bright, platinum blonde hair. There was no colour to his cheeks, and almost none to his lips. His dark grey eyes were watching Harry, a smug grin curving his mouth. He was obviously the speaker of the comment.

He smirked and nudged the boy next to him with his elbow and jerked his head in our direction. He muttered something too low for me to make out, and then the group of students around him broke into raucous laughter. I raised my eyebrows. The boy grinned at his friends, and then began to approach us.

"What do you want, Malfoy?" Ron grumbled, watching the boy with distaste.

"Nothing from _you_, Weasley. Actually, I just wanted to know who she is," he sneered, looking pointedly at me.

"Destiny Dranias," I muttered, frowning. Him insulting Harry was something I would ordinarily have liked, and would immediately make me want to befriend a person. However, something about him was slightly off-putting, and I wasn't entirely sure what to make of him.

"Draco Mal-"

"-She doesn't want to know you, Malfoy, so piss off," Harry said loudly, cutting off Malfoy as he appeared beside me.

"Potter, that will be ten points from Gryffindor for fowl language. Now, all of you take your seats and I will decide whether they are suitable or not for the rest of the year," a cold voice spoke. I turned to see a tall man in black robes looking at Harry with such contempt it made me (and I wasn't even on the receiving end of it) afraid of him. I filed in with the rest of the class and took a seat beside Hermione, whilst Harry and Ron sat at the back together. The man, obviously our teacher, swept in, flicking his greasy black hair out his face as he did so. I grimaced slightly as he looked over us all, a thin and unnatural smile curving his lips.

"Potter, Weasley, you will most certainly not be sitting together. Weasley, move next to Miss Parkinson. Potter…" He surveyed the rest of the room, and as his bottomless eyes settled on me, my heart sank to somewhere in the region of my stomach. "Ah, yes. Next to the new girl." The way they were staring at me, it was as if he could read my mind, and knew that of all the people in the room, Harry was the last person I wanted to be by.

Hermione stepped aside after giving me a reassuring smile before she took the seat beside a plump boy with brown hair. Harry slipped into the space next to me, glaring at nothing in particular. I rolled my eyes and rested my cheek against the palm of my hand, listening to the teacher, who I learned through his lecture was called Professor Snape, drone on about OWLs and NEWTs. Then I felt Harry's arm brush against mine, and wondered vaguely if he was standing up to start shouting again. This catching my interest, I turned slightly to look up at him.

"Dranias? Were you _listening_?" He said angrily, his fingers drumming impatiently on the desk.

"What? Listening to what?" I asked, confused as to what I had done to annoy him this time. He sighed, irritated.

"We're making the Draught of Peace, and I asked you to go get the ingredients." I stared at him for a moment, my eyes widening.

"Don't be stupid. You _are_ joking, aren't you?" He glared, his eyes narrowing into a look that would kill. Except it couldn't. Even magic had its limitations, it seemed.

"No, I am _not_ joking. Could you just go get them?" I rolled my eyes, turning away from him and picking at my nails boredly.

"If you want me to screw it up, then yes, I will get the ingredients. I don't even know what they _look_ like." He groaned, and left me at the table as he went to collect whatever it was he wanted by himself.

"Okay, I'm not doing all this on my own, so you can powder the moonstone. Here's the moonstone, and here's the knife you're gonna crush it with," he said when he returned, pushing a weird rock thing in front of me with a sharp little knife beside it and putting the armful of odd ingredients he was holding on the table.

For a brief moment, I considered ramming the knife into Harry's chest. Smiling tightly as I thought of the consequences of doing just that, I began to press the flat of the knife against the moonstone in an effort to crush it.

After several minutes of no progress, I realised I now had the opportunity to get Harry back for getting me in trouble with Sprout (I mean, he _did_ provoke me). Snape already seemed to have some problem with him, so I was sure it wouldn't too difficult. So, with this thought, I scowled at the moonstone and threw it against the table.

"What are you _doing_?" Harry said incredulously as the rock skidded to the floor near the Draco kid's table.

I shrugged and sat down again.

"Trying to crush moonstone. It didn't go too well."

"You don't say?" He muttered sarcastically. I grinned at him, and then nodded at the rock, an expectant look on my face.

He glared at me, then rushed off to retrieve the moonstone. And, right on time, Snape arrived, his eyes flicking over our empty cauldron and Harry's empty seat.

"Where is your potion, Dranias?" I looked up to his eyes for the second time that lesson. I quickly glanced at Harry, who was stood still beside Draco's table, clutching the moonstone in his hand.

"It hasn't been made yet." I stated simply. Snape watched me carefully for a moment, and then turned to Harry, who's shoulders sagged slightly.

"Potter, are you not Dranias' partner?" Harry gaped at him for a moment, then shot a look at me before answering.

"Yes, sir." Snape smirked unpleasantly.

"Then I expect you to be of more help, rather than wandering the classroom. Five points from Gryffindor." Harry stared at him, wide eyed. Snape passed us by, and Harry returned slowly to his seat.

"I think I should let you do the potion now," I said softly, smirking. Harry scowled, but apparently agreed with me. I watched whilst he crushed the moonstone, stirred it, added different liquids, allowed it to simmer…It was almost like watching someone cooking. Except there was no way I'd be having whatever it was in that cauldron for dinner.

"Harry? Why wouldn't you let that Draco kid introduce himself properly?" I asked suddenly. Harry looked up from the potion; his hair was beginning to stick to his forehead with sweat.

"Draco Malfoy is a git," he said bluntly, turning back to the potion.

"You couldn't have at least let me judge him on my own?" I asked, raising my eyebrows. He sighed and leant back .

"No. Malfoy isn't someone you want to get mixed in with."

"How do you know who I '_want to get mixed in with'_?" He glanced at me quickly.

"It doesn't matter whether you want to get mixed in with him or not anyway, you're a Gryffindor and he's a Slytherin. Even if I do think you should be in the same house as him." I shot him the dirtiest look I could muster, well aware of the rivalry between every other house and Slytherin and what an insult that was.

"Shut it, Potter," I growled. He chuckled lightly.

"Potter? That's new."

"You called me Dranias before." He stopped stirring the potion. He seemed to pretend that he hadn't heard this last comment. I rolled my eyes, but let the conversation drop.

The potion was useless. Snape past us by later on in the lesson and told Harry it was a total mess, and then further embarrassed him by making him read from the blackboard the instructions, making Harry admit to the step he'd missed. I couldn't help but admire Snape for the way he'd humiliated Harry, even if I didn't like the bloke much.

"Well, that lesson was tragically pointless," I grumbled as we left the dungeons for the brighter halls above. Hermione smiled tightly, unaware of the fights Harry and I had had during the hour we were forced to spend in such close proximity of each other.

I began wondering whether I should tell Hermione about my less than friendly relationship with Harry. There was the slight problem that she may take his side over mine, what with having been his friend for longer, but there was also the possibility that she'd be able to help me understand a little better. I wanted to know what his _problem_ was.

With that in mind, I decided it was time for a little late night chat with the bushy-haired girl.

* * *

><p><strong>Aaaaand... There it is! First chapter in forever. I hope you liked it, please leave me a review, what you like, what you didn't like, anything would be nice! :D And hope you're all having an amazing summer!<strong>

**Meg x**


	9. Give Me Answers

**Thank you for reviewing! Definitely makes me want to write more :D So, here's the longest chapter so far - it's a bit of a filler, but things in this one needed to happen before other things could. I hope you enjoy it, and as always, any constructive criticism is welcome!**

**Disclaimer: **STILL not mine! Crazy that, isn't it? Everything belongs to JK Rowling, apart from the Dranias family :)

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Nine: Give Me Answers<strong>

Tuesday's detention passed as horribly as Monday's had, but this time Harry and I did not attempt a civil conversation afterwards. Instead, we walked in silence, occasionally shooting glares at each other.

When I arrived back at the Gryffindor common room, I left Harry sitting alone, completing his homework so I could talk to Hermione in our dormitory, the thoughts of mine and Harry's less-than-friendly relationship having plagued my mind since that first Potions lesson.

"Hermione?" I whispered into the darkness as I pushed the door open.

"Yes?" She answered from her bed. I tiptoed over, so as not to wake Lavender or Parvati (the two girls had taken it upon themselves to be introduced to me in a very giggly manner earlier that day) and pulled back the hangings surrounding her four poster. She was sat cross-legged, reading a thick book by the light emitting from her wand. I smiled and sat opposite her.

"How was detention?" I shrugged nonchalantly. She frowned, brushing a stray piece of hair behind her ear as she watched me closely.

"What is it you _really_ want to talk about?" _Never one to beat about the bush_, I thought. This time, I sighed and dropped my head to stare at the soft red bed linen embroidered with gold.

"I want to know… about Harry." Sudden interest flashed through her eyes, and she pushed the book onto the floor, where it landed with a soft thump.

"What do you mean?" Slowly, I raised my head to look at her.

"I know I've made it very obvious that I don't like him, and I know he doesn't like me, either. I just… I want to know _why_. Why he's like that." She raised her eyebrows, watching me as if I'd just grown a second head.

"Des, were you not listening to him at all yesterday?" I frowned and nodded. "Well then, you must have realised he's been through a lot, and this year is even harder for him because everyone thinks he's a lying, insane boy who's let his past get to him a little too much."

"What do you mean, '_his past'_? It was only last year…" Hermione shook her had.

"No, not just last year. Des, I think it's time I told you about Harry, since he's obviously not going to."

"What do you-"

"When Harry was a year old, You-Know-Who performed the killing curse on both his parents and him. His mother and father died trying to protect him, but for a reason no one knows of, Harry survived. And that's where he got his scar. He's the only person ever to have lived to have survived the killing curse, and to add to that something happened to Voldemort that forced him into hiding. Harry became famous." I gaped at her. Harry was an _orphan_, and I hadn't even known…

"Dumbledore took him to live with his Aunt, Uncle and his cousin, who are all muggles and didn't tell Harry anything about the wizarding world until he was eleven years old and received his letter to Hogwarts. On his first year, he faced what was left of You-Know-Who for the first time, and survived for a second time. Then, in our next year, he killed a basilisk - a giant snake," she added quickly upon the confusion written across my face, "and saved Ginny's life. Third year, he was supposedly in danger of a mass murderer, who Harry then found out to be his innocent godfather and saved his life. He also fought off about a hundred Dementors with a single Patronus Charm, something only usually managed by full-grown wizards." I stared at her for a moment.

"You mean Sirius? Harry saved Sirius?" She nodded once. My eyes widened as I took it all in. I'd thought I'd had it bad when I was told I was a witch, dad had been killed and that I would have to start here. I couldn't believe Harry'd had it just as bad, if not worse. But that still didn't answer my question.

"But why does that mean he hates me?" I whispered.

"He doesn't hate you. He just doesn't know what to think of you. You're something new to this school this year, and so far every year there's been something new, it's been bad. I'm not saying you are, but Harry just doesn't trust you yet. He'll come round eventually. Well, he will if you start being nice back to him. You haven't been making it easier for him to figure you out, you know." I smiled slightly.

"Why don't you like him?" Hermione said softly. I frowned, contemplating my answer.

"I… don't really know. There's just something about him I can't stand. He's arrogant, and obnoxious. And if that's true, that he thinks he can't trust me - he hasn't even given me a _chance_."

"You mean… Like how you haven't given him a chance?" I shook my head furiously, sure she wasn't getting it as she sat with that same knowing look in her wide brown eyes that she had in every one of our classes.

"No, I- Nothing like that- I _have_ given him a chance! I just…." She grinned at my stuttering and gave me a gentle shove.

"You just can't think of a straight answer because you know I'm right?" She chuckled lightly. "Go to bed, Des, we've got school tomorrow and I don't want a repeat of Monday." I sighed and stood up, leaving her alone and getting into my own bed after changing out of my school robes.

At least I wouldn't be left out of conversations relating to Harry and Voldemort anymore - I knew what was going on. And somewhere in me, maybe right at the back of my mind where I could easily ignore the thought, I knew Hermione was right. I should've given Harry a chance, been nice to him, let him see I wasn't all bad. But I'd already convinced myself that first night I met him that he wasn't worth it, and I was never one to be indecisive.

* * *

><p>Somehow, I made it through the week. By Friday evening, my hand was throbbing with pain and the cut hadn't healed over, giving me the suspicion that it was going to scar.<p>

Harry and I had grown to dislike each other more and more (to Hermione's annoyance) with each Potions class, and we were now using our last names to refer to each other whenever we spoke.

Hermione and I had become close friends, and together we spent Saturday morning catching up with homework and afterwards a bit of a tutoring session, whereby Hermione helped me finally manage to use Depulso and Accio properly for Charms class, since I had now passed copying out of textbooks in most of my lessons.

Ron had been exceptionally pleased since Friday afternoon, apparently because he'd made the Quidditch team. I had no idea what Quidditch was, and Hermione obviously expressed no interest in it either. Harry seemed to be the only one of us that could really understand the big thing about it, since he was also on the team.

On Saturday afternoon, Harry and Ron entered the common room, both carrying a broomstick over their shoulders.

"Oh, chores? Would you mind sweeping under the rug, then? Hermione's cat has been molting." I asked as they passed us. They stopped and turned, Ron looking uncomfortable and Harry glaring.

"We're going to Quidditch practice. It's played on brooms," Harry snapped. A sport played on brooms? Even if Harry _was_ there, that didn't sound like something I'd want to miss. I turned to Hermione, grinning.

"Can we go? I wanna see this!" Hermione rolled her eyes and looked back down at her book.

"You can go, but I'm not. It's freezing out there." I shrugged, standing up and pulling the jacket that I'd left over the back of the sofa on.

"You're not coming." Harry said, scowling at Hermione for suggesting I go alone.

"Potter, you're not my mother. I'm coming whether you like it or not." He narrowed his eyes at me, but didn't continue to argue.

"Oh, and would you three mind checking if Hagrid's back? I'm a little worried…" Hermione muttered, with a look in her eyes that said she was more than a little worried. That was another subject I was oblivious to; Hagrid, who was obviously a friend of theirs, but they always spoke in hushed voices about him, making it hard for me to find out any more about him.

Harry and Ron both agreed to have a look for Hagrid, and then we left out of the portrait hole. I followed them both down the moving flights of staircases until we made it to the main doors, where we stepped out into the cold and windy September air.

We trudged across the grounds until we got to a muddy pitch, where five people in red and gold robes were stood, talking in a circle. Harry shot me a warning look (although I had no idea what he was supposed to be warning me about) before hurrying off with Ron to join the group.

Sighing, I looked around. Up in the stands were another group of students who I didn't recognise, other than the bright blonde hair of Draco Malfoy. I hadn't spoken to him much since Tuesday, but I got the feeling that there was some sort of animosity between him and Harry.

I climbed the wooden steps and approached the group. They were laughing loudly and pointing to the Gryffindor team.

"_Weasley_? You know, with Johnson captain and Weasley keeper, this year's going to be a _cinch_," Draco crowed, clicking his fingers on the final word. They all laughed loudly, and broke into a chorus of "_Gryffindor are losers_."

I raised my eyebrows and took a seat behind Draco, who had failed to notice me yet.

The team mounted their brooms and took off into the air. Ron flew to the three tall posts at one end of the pitch. Fred and George Weasley were both carrying bats and were flying around the other four players. One girl I didn't know was holding a large ball and was passing it between herself and two other girls, until finally they were close enough to aim it at one of Ron's posts, where they threw it and it flew through the shortest hoop.

At first, I couldn't see Harry anywhere. Then, he came to a stop in mid air and shouted something back to one of the girls. He follwed by braking into such a fast speed that he was barley visible.

My eyes widened, and I began watching the players and what they were doing much more closely. It looked natural, fun and _difficult_.

And I could feel that tugging in me that told me I _needed_ to have a go.

"Weasley, what is that your riding? It looks more like my house elf's chimney sweep - could you not afford a proper broom?" Draco yelled. The black-haired girl sat next to him shrieked with laughter and tried to entwine he fingers with Draco's, but he pulled away. I grinned and chuckled.

Draco turned and saw me, a smirk settling on his lips.

"Destiny Dranias? Come to watch Potter play, have we?" He sneered.

"I couldn't care less about _him_. I'm here to watch Ron's first practice," I muttered, looking directly into his cold grey eyes. He surveyed me for a moment.

"And the point of that is…? Even you've got to admit he's crap." I frowned and didn't answer. He had a point, though - Ron had let in every shot taken by the four players (Harry had abandoned flying randomly around the pitch. Instead he was passing the ball and shooting it at the hoops with the three girls).

"That's what I thought. Don't worry, I won't tell Weasley what you think of his pathetic Keeper skills." I glared at him and wished he would start insulting Harry instead. At least if I joined in with that I wouldn't feel bad about it.

"So, you're new, right?" He asked casually. I nodded mechanically, unsure of what to make of the Malfoy boy.

"What school did you go to before Hogwarts, then?" And inside I flailed. What did I say to that? Hermione had pre-warned me of the Slytherins and their hatred to all things even remotely muggle. My whole life had been entirely non-magical until about a month ago.

"Uh… Well, it was in Greece… Don't know if you'll know it…" I stuttered. It hadn't been a _lie_, exactly. Just not very specific. He cocked an eyebrow and looked over me.

"Greece?" He said slowly. I nodded my confirmation. "By any chance, are you Athan Dranias' daughter?" I raised my eyebrows in surprise. How did he know my dad?

"Uh, yeah, actually, I am." His smirk widened.

"My father used to work with him at the Ministry of Magic." I frowned as I picked up on the use of the past tense. So he knew my father had been killed by Death Eaters.

"And your mother is a muggle…" He trailed off. I glared at him.

"Yes. Got a problem with that?" He laughed lightly.

"Your father could have done so much better. He was an almost decent pure-blooded wizard, even if he was a Ravenclaw, but he ruined all that when he married your mother." I gaped at him, unsure of what to say. I wanted to ask him more about my dad, even if he had just insulted mum. I'd had no idea he'd attended Hogwarts. I'd assumed, when I'd found out he was a wizard, that he would have gone to a school in Greece. I couldn't ask Malfoy about any of this, though.

"Bastard," I mumbled. He laughed again and turned to continue calling abuse at the Gryffindor team as Fred - or George, I could never tell which - hit another, slightly smaller ball away from Harry with his bat.

I didn't have that tugging feeling telling me I had to fly anymore. Slowly I stood up, leaving the pitch and heading back to the castle, where I found Hermione in the common room, still reading her book. She took no notice of me as I flopped into the armchair near the fire.

I needed to talk to someone who would know about my father, and Draco Malfoy was no option. I had so many questions swimming about in my head, and they needed answers. But I knew who would know, even though I'd never before spoken to him in my life.

I needed to see Professor Dumbledore.

* * *

><p>Sunday night arrived, and I sat staring into the fire, awaiting Hermione's return from the library. Harry and Ron were sat behind me, playing a game of wizard's chess.<p>

The portrait hole opened and Hermione walked in, looking slightly flustered.

"What's wrong with you?" Harry asked as she slumped into an armchair beside them.

"I was studying in the library, but then a group of third-years came in with one of Fred and George's portable swamps, and were planning to set it off. I just spent twenty minutes chasing after them for it." I grinned and turned to her.

"Thinking of turning in your prefect badge, Hermione? Too much stress for you?" She scowled.

"You should've let them set it off, I'm sure Umbridge would've been pleased," Harry added, smiling broadly.

"It's not funny! If the prefects don't set an example, how can anyone expect the younger years to behave?" She snapped, a look of indignation flashing over her flushed face.

The smile faded from my lips as I remembered why I had waited for her in the first place.

"Er… Hermione?" I mumbled.

"Yes?" She grumbled, looking up.

"Would you mind showing me to Dumbledore's office?" She sat up straighter, and both Harry and Ron snapped their heads to stare at me uncertainly.

"I'll tell you why after," I added hastily, keen to not have to explain myself in front of Harry. She frowned slightly and turned to the two boys, who were still watching me curiously.

"Harry? What's Dumbledore's password?" His cheeks burned a slight pink as he answered.

"I - I don't know…" She raised her eyebrows, but said no more.

"Are we going…?" I muttered, trailing off and turning my gaze to the portrait hole. I felt slightly desperate to escape this conversation. For some unknown reason, I didn't want Harry or Ron to know why I needed to see the headmaster. Well, it wasn't so much Ron, although I'd hate for him to know how much I wanted to hear and know about my father; it was mostly Harry. I didn't think he'd ever mention it to anyone, but I didn't want him knowing I wasn't as thick-skinned or independent that I made out to be. And it bugged me that he was affecting me this much.

Hermione shrugged and stood up, leading me out and together we descended the stairs until we arrived at the fourth floor. I followed her down a number of corridors, and eventually we arrived at a large statue of a gargoyle positioned in an alcove in the wall. Hermione sighed and looked at me.

"I don't know the password. I think we'll have to wait for him to come down…" I exhaled in a gust of air and leant against the stone wall, sliding slowly down it until I was sat, my knees drawn up under my chin. Hermione's arm brushed against mine. I looked around and saw her sitting beside me, smiling gently.

"You never did tell me why you wanted to see Professor Dumbledore." I frowned and looked back at the wall opposite us. I could see one small spider struggling to crawl it's way up.

"I met Draco Malfoy at the Quidditch practice yesterday." The spider was inching it's way up, almost halfway.

"And he said stuff… About my parents." Hermione said nothing. I looked up, and saw that there was a fly caught in a web just below the ceiling, and I realised the spider wasn't struggling; it was chasing it's victim.

"_Seeing death as the end of life is like seeing the horizon as the end of the ocean_."

Dad's past words rang in my ears. He'd used them one night nearly nine years ago, when Callie and I had stayed awake, afraid that dad wouldn't come back from his next business trip after he left for it the next morning. That was always a constant worry for us both: we'd had no idea what he did. For some reason, that had frightened us.

"Miss Granger? Miss Dranias?" A soft but wise voice said, bringing me back to reality. We jumped to our feet, my cheeks flushing a bright red.

Professor Dumbledore was a tall and elderly man, but somehow, he looked young, as if he had plenty of time ahead of him. His silvery white beard extended to his belt buckle, where he had tucked it in, and he was dressed in robes of deep purple, decorated with small gold stars. His blue eyes twinkled behind half-moon spectacles.

"Oh - Sorry, Professor. I just… Needed to see you…" I said hesitantly. He smiled and turned his gaze to Hermione.

"Miss Granger, I have important matters to discuss with Destiny and Calista. Would you mind asking Professor Flitwick to collect Calista Dranias from the Ravenclaw common room and for her to be brought to my office?" Hermione nodded her head quickly, and hurried off down the corridor. I stared after her until she had rounded a corner, and then turned my attention to Dumbledore.

"How did you know this would include Calista?" I asked abruptly. "Sir," I added as an afterthought. He chuckled lightly.

"I will tell you, but I think it best not to discuss such important topics here. _Fizzing Whizbee_." I frowned, about to question him about his last words, when I noticed that the Gargoyle had jumped aside, revealing a set of curved stairs. Dumbledore stepped up and I followed him.

His office was far more interesting than Umbridge's had been. His table and chairs were both made of a dark wood, with inticate designs of gold leaves and vines carved into the edges. Many trinkets and instruments of sorts were placed on the table and around the room, giving me much to look at, and a view of the grounds and lake were visible from the window.

Dumbledore sat in the chair behind his desk, gesturing for me to sit opposite him. A silence settled between us as we waited for my sister. Finally, we heard a soft knock at the door, and Dumbledore replied with a "Come in."

Callie stepped inside, looking rather confused. Dumbledore nodded to the seat beside me, and she hesitantly took it, her eyes flitting between both me and the Professor.

"Now, Calista, I suppose you do not know why you are here?" She shook her head.

"No, I didn't think you would… Well, your sister apparently has some questions for me. Destiny, if you'd like to ask them…?" He turned back to me, smiling kindly. For a moment, I forgot what I was there for - I was still slightly in shock that Dumbledore seemed to know everything going on in my head before I'd voiced them. Then, the conversation with Draco came back to me, and the questions flooded my mind again.

"Dad… he came here?" I said, slightly incoherent. Dumbledore, however, nodded slowly.

"Your father was a pure-blooded wizard born in Greece, but his family wished for him to be taught here. He was accepted, and was sorted into Ravenclaw." I glanced at Calista; her jaw had dropped, and she was gaping at him unattractively. Deciding she wasn't about to ask anything, I went on.

"Then how did he meet mum? And why did they go back to Greece?" He stroked his beard, thinking.

"After his seventh year here, he moved into a property of his own in London, where he met your mother and fell deeply in love with her. When they both became eighteen, and Faith did no longer need her parent's permission to marry, they had their wedding. Athan told Faith of his magical powers soon after, and she accepted him for it." He paused, allowing us to take in the information about our father. Inhaling, he continued. "Athan wished to move back to Greece, however. He had not seen his family for a few years, and wished for his parents to meet his new wife. Faith agreed, and they moved to Greece, where they settled down." Calista said nothing, apparently in shock, but I felt that I needed to know as much as possible. This was the first time either of us had ever been given any information about our father in the times before we'd come along.

"But what happened? I was told that dad worked at the Ministry…"

"Yes, he did. After your mother became pregnant with you, Destiny, Athan decided he needed to get a new job to support his growing family. He trained for a job at the Greek Ministry of Magic, and became an Unspeakable. I am unable to tell you what an Unspeakable does, since nobody other than they themselves know of that. Although I do understand that he advanced in the profession, as he was very skilled, and travelled often to different countries in order to learn and do… _business_ with other Unspeakables. Which is what he had been doing for the last thirteen years." I waited expectantly, believing that as he was telling us all this, there had to be something else he was leading up to: a new lead on dad's murder, or why they'd wanted Callie and me. And suddenly I was hoping with everything in me that the Headmaster was about to reveal some much newer information to us.

Dumbledore sighed deeply.

"I know, Destiny, that you wanted to know more. If I myself knew, you two would be the first I would tell, and I'm sincerely sorry that we are no closer to discovering the reason behind your father's death." I slumped slightly, feeling deflated again. Without really thinking about it, I nodded and found myself talking.

"That's fine, Professor. Thank you for everything." My voice sounded strangely hollow as I stood from my seat and nodded a goodbye to him. He smiled sadly in return, and I pulled the heavy doors open to the curved stairs again, and was soon followed by Calista.

Neither of us spoke. I had a feeling that we had nothing to say. We'd learned plenty about Dad's past, but none of it would really help us find those that had taken him from us. I _had_ wanted to know if he'd really come to Hogwarts too, but now that seemed less important. It had been a month, and still nothing had been found. It was starting to sink in.

Calista and I eventually split off from one another, and I climbed the staircases to the common room in silence.

"Mimbulus Mimbletonia," I mumbled. The Fat Lady groggily swung forwards to admit me entrance.

I couldn't see anyone in the firelight by the sofas. I sighed and headed to the entrance to the girl's dormitories, but a voice startled me.

"Destiny?" I jumped and wheeled around to see Harry; he was lying on the largest sofa, his head propped up on his hand. His hair was messier than usual, and his glasses were askew. There was a large red patch on one cheek, probably were his face had been pressed against his arm whilst he slept.

"Yeah?" I whispered. He sat up slowly and patted the space beside him, indicating for me to sit. I did so hesitantly, and he leant back.

"You went to see Dumbledore." It wasn't a question: it was a statement. I nodded though, and his gaze dropped.

"Erm… D-did Dumbledore… _talk_ to you?" I frowned, but nodded again.

"So… Why did he speak to you? But not me?" He mumbled, apparently to himself more than me. I couldn't help it though - Harry always set me off, even at the smallest things. I'd felt deflated before, but now my anger was flaring.

"Is that not okay? For a Professor to prefer to talk to me than to the _Great Harry Potter_?" I mocked, the sarcasm thick in my voice and practically dripping from my tongue. He glared at me, suddenly on his feet.

"There's no point even _trying_ to talk to you. You're so stuck in your own little world, assuming everything's meant to insult you. You're impossible!" I stood up too and faced him, shooting him daggers and wishing beyond reason that I hadn't left my wand in my dormitory.

"What was that, Potter?" I asked softly, my voice now laced with venom rather than sarcasm, daring him to say it. He didn't seem to notice though, or if he did, he ignored it.

"Sorry, did you not _hear_ me? You. Are. _Impossible_," he hissed. I gritted my teeth and stalked off, making sure to shove into him as I passed. I would never normally let him get the last words in, but I was fuming, both at what Harry'd said and that I'd learned less than I'd hoped about my father.

I slipped into bed and ignored the soft snoring with ease, falling again into the dream of Christmas, one I had not had since I had arrived at Hogwarts.

* * *

><p><strong>Thank you! Hope it was okay? :D <strong>

**_Meg_ x**


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